


The Fallen Chronicles: Book 1 - The Lost Story of Zootopia

by Jacato



Series: The Fallen Chronicles [1]
Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-19
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-08-14 18:02:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 84,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8023708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jacato/pseuds/Jacato
Summary: Knowledge was a key. It unlocked the mind, it freed the spirit. Almost no one knew about life outside the city-state, no one except for those in control. Nick had always lived a life of outcast and discrimination, but as society begins to crumble, he must do what he can to find the answers rarely asked for — and more importantly — to survive in a corrupted world turned against him.





	1. The Lost Story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there. My name is Jack (aka Jacato), and I am the author of "The Fallen Chronicles," my own unique take on the darker side of Zootopia. 
> 
> I've been writing this story since March of 2016 on Fanfiction.net to over 400 lovely followers. However, due to popular demand, I will be moving to Ao3 to post here along with FF.net (since everyone seems to like this place more lol). 
> 
> Anyways, I will be posting this fic one book at a time, each book being around 15 chapters long. I'm already on Book 3 as of January of 2017, so if you'd like to read the updated version of this fanfic, please visit my story on fanfiction.net. (It's entitled "The Fallen Chronicles," all of my books are posted on the same page.) If not, I will be posting here daily until this one catches up. I'm on Chapter 39 right now, so it might take a little bit. :)
> 
> Now, unlike Fanfiction.net, I will be uploading this story book by book. When one book ends, I will start another page for the one afterwards. This is to better organize my story since it is getting near 300k words. All in all, I'm planning on publishing 5 books, and my goal is get to half a million words. (Which at this rate, is very likely.)
> 
> I will not be posting many Author's Notes, but if have any questions, I'd be happy to reply to them. (Is there a PM system on here? I don't think there's a PM system on here...)
> 
> Whelp, I've said enough. I sincerely hope you guys enjoy this story. I've put a lot of my time and heart into this, and so I am very glad to be able to share this with a new audience. I'm fairly new to this site, and so I'm hopping to get to know ya'll a bit better. This seems like a pretty cool place lol.
> 
> Happy reading!  
> ~Jacato

 

* * *

Nick was only a kid.

The world was an unknown realm, a vast and mysterious wonderland that he was eager to explore. He was a curious cub. Eagerness seemed to pour out of his mind, filling his body with unchecked enthusiasm. Life was a new adventure, and to him, nothing would stop him from becoming a prosperous adult like his father…

Not even the collar around his neck.

He ventured the rooms from left to right, running around with friends and looking through display cases. The exhibit was packed with students. The laughter of children bounced off the concrete walls of the open area. Jubilant conversations rang out from every direction. Today was the first day of school, and the large classes of predators were on a field trip at the history museum.

There wasn't a single prey mammal there, but the children thought nothing of it. It was an exciting experience; many of them had never been to the downtown part of the capital. Nick used to spend his days in the city slums, playing with predators and enjoying a youthful life. Now however, he was becoming an adult. He got his collar at the age of seven, and was now attending a local primary school. While others dreaded it, Nick was completely enthusiastic about getting an education. If he was going to be like his father, he knew he had to try and learn a little. Besides, discovering things was something he loved dearly.

The fox continued to look around. It was an age of technological advancement for Zootopia. Nick was overwhelmed by the gadgets and gizmos that surrounded him. He wandered over to the back of the room, making his way over to a large display case. A few students surrounded the container with their paws pressed against the glass.

“Hey guys!”

Nick’s voice was light and cheerful, however, none of the students responded. They were all completely transfixed on the item in front of them. The fox glanced over their shoulders.

“Whatcha looking at?”

The electronical device sat on small stand. The object was big and bulky, and had a fairly large antenna protruding from the top. One of the students answered.

“—It’s called a… _ce-wul-ar telephone…_ You can talk to mammals by speaking into this little box…”

Nick inspected the device, amazed by what he saw.

“But wait— where are the wires?”

“It doesn't have any! —That's what _cewular_ means!”

“Wow…”

The small group stood around the display for several moments. The government was always coming up with new technology, and the wireless communication device was one of their latest inventions. Nick was always curious about them. He would watch helicopters and planes fly through the sky, utterly unsure about how they worked. Although the public was limited to typewriters and landline telephones, the government-funded military was constantly upgrading and advancing. The striking difference in technological abilities always interested Nick. He sometimes wished that he was allowed to join the military whenever he grew up. They always had the coolest things…

…

…

…

“ _Class!”_

The fox turned around. A leopard stood across the room, waving a clipboard and gathering everybody's attention. She called out with a friendly voice.

“ _It's time for today's lesson!”_

The teacher motioned for everyone to come over. Students began to peel away from the display cases and make their way towards the front of the room. Nick and the other predators followed them, slightly upset about not being able to look at the objects around them.

The children began to sit down on the floor. Predators of all shapes and sizes huddled around the teacher, excitedly talking about the museum’s many technological artifacts. The leopard sat on a stool, quietly checking off the attendance of all students. When she was finally sure all predators were accounted for, she put away her clipboard.

Resting her paws on her lap, she cleared her throat and started the lesson.

“Good morning everyone! —Did you enjoy looking at all the cool things!?”

The accumulated crowd bursted out with cheers and joyful claps. It was clear that the predators were happy about the field trip.

The teacher continued.

“Well… Now that we're here today— we'll be talking about a very important subject…”

The students quieted down, now interested in what the teacher had to say. They had already looked over the entire building, and they weren't sure about what the teacher was referring to now.

The leopard raised her paw and lifted the device on her neck.

“Can anybody tell me what this is?”

The predators’ eyes lit up, instantly recognizing what she said as pointing at. Many of them grabbed their own accessories, raising their paws up to answer the question.

“Hmm… Yes Derek?”

The bear cub lowered his paw, answering with a confident tone.

“A collar!”

“Yes! —Very good! Now… Could anyone tell me _why_ we where these collars?”

The children piped up with another round of enthusiastic paw-raises. The leopard scanned the anxious crowd, raising her finger and selecting another student.

“Nicholas?”

“So we don't misbehave!”

“Great!”

The predators returned to a talkative murmur. The teacher glanced down at her clipboard, swiftly starting her next statement and silencing the students.

“You see— hundreds of years ago, when the city-state was first founded, mammals were divided into to two groups… Prey lived in the houses, while predators worked in the fields…”

Nick and his classmates paid full attention to the leopard's words. She continued after pausing momentarily.

“... But thanks to the kindness of the government, Predators have been welcomed into our society! —As long as we put these collars on everyday, we can walk the streets as free and happy mammals!”

The predators shifted excitedly where they sat, their eyes glowing with the excitement of growing up. Almost all of them had child locks on their collars, but that didn't matter. The collars were their ticket to a new and adventurous life. None of them had even the slightest desire to take them off.

“Now… The collars we’re wearing were made to make sure that us predators don't do anything bad to our fellow Zootopians… If an officer sees you misbehaving, he'll give you a little shock and tell you to stop… —So make sure you're well behaved! The adults are always watching!”

The children nodded, promising themselves that they'll be good mammals when they grew up. Only criminals were shocked, and as long they were nice, they could live normal lives. They could be like everyone else… They could be like prey.

“Together… Us predators can come together and help this nation become greater! —Does anyone know the city motto?”

Only a few students raised their paws, but someone among them decided to yell the answer out loud.

“For the good of the the city-state! For the good of all!”

“ _Yes! Very Good!!!_ —Come on everyone! Together!”

The children spoke in a united chant.

“For the good of the city-state! For the good of all!”

“Excellent! Again!”

The juvenile voices became louder, their expressions filled with patriotism.

“ _For the good of the city-state! For the good of all!”_

They became more enthusiastic. Their words were marked with joy.

“ _For the good of the city-state! For the good of all!”_

They began to yell it. The chant was like an energetic chorus, like a rejoiceful praise.

“ _For the good of the city-state! For the good of all!”_

“ _For the good of the city-state! For the good of all!”_

“ _For the good of the city-state! For the good of all!!!”_

* * *

_***BEEP *BEEP *BEEP *BEEP** _

“ _Ugh…”_

…

_***BEEP *BEEP *BEEP *BEEP** _

“ _Ughhh…”_

…

 

_***BEEP *BEEP *BEEP *BEEP** _

“ _UGHHH.”_

…

_***BEEP—** _

…

…

…

* * *

_16 Years Later_

* * *

The silence was sudden and soothing.

My body was submerged in drowsiness. My arms and legs were sprawled out across the mattress, and my mind was still a muddled blur. The darkness of the room told me that it was still pitch black outside. The cool, passing breeze told me that I had kicked my blankets off, and the sudden wave of negative thoughts reminded me that I absolutely abhorred mornings. I had to muster up the strength to look at the quiet clock sitting my nightstand.

_5:20_

The dreaded number. It seemed that no matter how soon I fell asleep in the evening, the mornings were always the same. Painful. I had woken up at this time before, but only on occasion. Dreariness wasn't familiar enough to get used to, but accustomed enough to despise. However, how I felt really didn't matter. Complaining wouldn't make things easier, and with that in mind, I eventually made the conscious effort to get up.

I threw my legs over the side of the bed and used the momentum to sit upright. My surroundings started to creep into my head. The sounds of dripping rainwater, the smell of mold and damp tree bark, the creaking of the floorboards; everything slowly became more evident as my senses slowly resurfaced. Standing up, I outstretched my paws and pushed off of the low hanging ceiling. Boarding in an attic addition, my room had three ceilings. One was parallel to the ground while the other two were unevenly slanted downward toward the floor. It was mold-ridden and nearly about to fall on me. Honey once jokingly told me that if the roof collapsed one day, she would just buy me a tent.

It was still dark out. I began to feel my way through the room and toward my bedroom door. Even with a fox’s vision, I still had the habit of tripping over random objects. It was as if the piles of clothes and miscellaneous objects moved around as I slept. I turned back when I got to the door, looking over the cluttered mess that enveloped me. My ripped bed sheets were over halfway off of my bed. To the left, my small and unstable desk sat crookedly against the wall. On the ground were piles of clothing. Some of the newer, clean stacks stood tall and orderly, while older ones became slumped and untidy mounds. I turned back and grabbed my collar from off the doorknob.

Even if I wasn't necessarily prepared to take on the day, the world didn't give a shit, and therefore, neither could I.

* * *

"NICK! WE GOT A LEAD!"

Honey bursted through the door with a small piece of paper in her paws. Before I had the chance to swallow my coffee, she slammed the paper down, shaking the table violently.

_"Nick, tell me what you see!"_

She was in one of those _moods_.

It was a mix of excitement and anxiety. She’s had moments like these ever since I moved in with her. We met at a bar last year after I was kicked out of my apartment in the Rainforest Bureau. I was hammered that night; the events were like a blur to me. We sat by each other at the counter, and after a few beers, we got to know each other a little better. Our conversation stumbled from one subject to another, and eventually, my housing situation was vaguely brought up. She was more than happy to invite me to stay at her place. I agreed, thinking it would be a one-or-two-night thing, a place to stay until I got back on my feet…

Almost a year later, I’m still living in her attic.

Honey was a rather large badger. She took up most of the doorway while walking from room to room in the house. (Then again, the house was originally built by ferrets. Everything was a little too small.) She wasn't fat. No, just stocky. Her stature was matched by her unpretentious attitude. Honey had always been a nice house-mate. She was caring and exceedingly protective. Although it was never quite necessary, her guidance was comforting. It was always good knowing that she had your back.

When I first met Honey, moving in with her didn't seem all too bad. I packed all of my belongings and moved into the small attic space, thinking everything was going to be somewhat normal again.

Well, that was until I found… The bunker.

* * *

It was the third day after I moved in. Honey was at the grocery store and I got back from work early. With almost nothing to eat and plenty of time to waste, I decided to reheat a slice of pizza that had been in the fridge overnight.

I sat down and watched a documentary on T.V., and after I was done, I got up to wash the plate. However, when I got to the sink, I couldn't find any dish soap. I checked high and low, scanning across the counter and looking through cabinets. Eventually, I got down to the curtained space beneath the sink. I moved the draped towel, not expecting to find anything out of the ordinary…

I was wrong.

A large, metal trapdoor was bolted to the wooden floor. Beside me, a winding wire ran beneath the hatch, leading down into the mysterious space below. I sat back and contemplated, baffled by what I was looking at. I was horrified yet intrigued. I didn't want to invade my roommate's privacy and risk being kicked out of my new house, but the question burned through my head.

Why on earth would she have a bunker underneath the sink?

 _It could be nothing_. I thought. _It's probably a storm shelter or something._ I draped the towel back over the empty space and headed back to the couch, having completely forgotten to wash my dirty plate. I tried to distract myself from whatever was in that hole. I flipped through the channels, trying to find something else to focus on. It was to no avail. Every single show seemed to be on commercial break. I threw the remote down and closed my eyes.

_Don't be irrational. It's probably nothing…_

I looked back. I could see the wire split off from the wall and go down beneath the sink. It appeared to be the same cable that connected to the landline telephone on the wall. I pondered at the sight.

_A telephone wire? Why would someone need to have a phone down there?_

Finally, my curiosity got the best of me. I got up and marched over to the sink, bending down and unveiling the trapdoor from behind the curtain. I opened the door with a shove, revealing a small, dark hole. I wasn't sure how deep it was.

_You're not going down there._

A weird smell radiated from the bottom of the pit. The bunker’s purpose remained a frightening mystery. I started to have my doubts.

_There's no way you're going down there._

I took a deep breath and leaned back. No. I shouldn't be going down there. All I had to do was ask Honey about it. It could've been nothing. It could've just been my imagination getting the best of me…

…

…

…

_Fuck it._

I turned around and dropped my legs into the tunnel. After a few pushes back, my foot made contact with the cold, metal rung of the ladder. I crawled down, squeezing my shoulders together and placing my paws on the top rung. After a few, hesitant breaths, I made my way down.

The hole was about two feet in diameter. The damp, dirt walls on either side of me brushed up against my fur. I was amazed by the fact that Honey could fit in here. I couldn't help but feel claustrophobic, and I was fairly underweight for a fox. I continued to climb down, waiting for my feet to touch the unseen basement floor. I began to think about what I was getting myself into.

_What if there are dead bodies down there? What if you're her next victim?_

_Don't be ridiculous! It's probably just extra storage or something._

_Really? Then why hasn't she told you about it? Why is it hidden underneath the kitchen sink!? And why on earth is it connected with a telephone line!?!?_

I paused and looked up. I was about 10 feet beneath the hole entrance. I took a deep, drawn-out sigh. I could feel the moisture radiate from the walls of the vertical tunnel. The noises of the city were muffled by the thick layer of earth now separating us. I thought about going back up. I thought about going back to the couch and minding my own business…

I breathed another sigh and restarted my descent.

The claustrophobic hole now seemed to open up. I realized that I was beginning to get close to whatever I waited below. My trip down became a constant rhythm. My feet clanked against every step, and my paws followed at an even pace. Thoughts continued to roll through my head. The deeper I got, the more anxious I became. I started to consider stopping…

But suddenly, the rhythm stopped.

My foot failed to connect to a rung. The ladder ended abruptly far above the ground. The sudden fright made me slip, and I started to plummet to the ground.

“ _Oh fuuuuuuuUUUUCK!”_

_***THUD** _

I hit the damp floor with enough force to knock the wind out of me. A bolt of pain shot up my spine. Dizziness crept into my head. I gasped for air. I laid there, blankly staring up at the open hatch beneath the sink. I was at least 20 feet below street level now.

I was slow to get up. My entire body felt sore. I balanced myself onto my feet and looked around. The room was pitch black. The sounds of my howl were now a faint, resonating echo. The room was definitely bigger than I had first imagined.

My vision became more and more clear. I could start seeing the outlines of what looked to be shelves. I glanced around and was able to find a small box in the wall. A light switch. I walked over to it and confirmed my suspicions. I flicked the switch and sure enough, the lights turned on.

I looked up to see the hole I fell through. The ladder abruptly stopped at the tunnel's bottom end. The ceiling was about 10 feet above my head, and reaching the ladder was a complete impossibility. I was going to have to find someway to get back up there.

I looked back down. The room around me was littered with supplies and equipment. Shelves were stacked high with food, medicine, and other essential items. A stack of glass jars sat in the corner, each of them being filled with an unknown yellow liquid. I averted my attention elsewhere. I didn't even want to know what was in those.

There were many random objects strewn about the bunker. Golf clubs, fire extinguishers, a large box of fireworks, hundreds of forks and spoons, lots of miscellaneous stuff. On one end of the room, there was a rather large map of the city-state. Red tipped push pins were dotted around the map, all connected by a single red string. Below the map was a desk cluttered with papers and news articles. Compared to the rest of the room, it was fairly tidy.

The other end of the room shocked me. I just about pissed in my pants. The wall was stocked with guns. Real guns. From pistols to assault rifles, there was an uncomfortably high amount of weaponry. I swallowed. I haven't actually handled a real gun before. Part of me wanted to go over and check them out, the other part of me wanted to get the hell out of here.

It made sense. The weapons, the food supplies, the phone line… Honey was a prepper…

_A doomsday bunker, your new roommate has a hideout for when the apocalypse happens. Way to pick them, Nick._

Oddly, part of me was comforted, knowing that if the world was ending, I could be like the crazy idiots on TV who spent thousands on military-grade bunkers to ride out the apocalypse. That was it. An apocalypse bunker. Nothing else.

I began to laugh at the situation I was in.

I thought that Honey was a serial killer or deranged psycho. I mean, yeah, it was weird to have a fallout shelter underneath your sink, but that was a lot better than what I originally had in mind. Honey could've been crazy, but she wasn't deranged. Yes. A fallout shelter. Nothing else. My wild and irrational fears were disproven…

But then, as I began to look for a way out, something strange caught my eye.

Although the objects that were littered around the basement were pretty random, they mostly had a common theme. There a was an oversized wool shearer on the top of one of the shelves. Beside me was a cage, that was roughly the size of a sheep.

I looked around more, and found more sheep related items. There was a wall mounted clock that had the outline of a sheep. On the desk, there was a book about the biology of sheep. Alongside the book were newspaper articles of sheep-related crimes and incidents. Mounted on the wall was a poster with three sheep jumping over the moon. However, in red marker, the top middle sheep had ' _666'_ written on it. Below it said ' _Stay Awake!'_

At that, I was out of there. I found a folding ladder near the back corner of the room. The smell of piss began to fill my nostrils. I set the ladder up underneath the hole and quickly climbed out…

…

…

…

Honey was a psychotic conspiracy theorist.

* * *

I eventually brought it up later that night. While eating dinner, Honey educated me on the " _Infamous Sheep Conspiracy."_ Her knowledge of sheep both impressed and scared me. She went on about how sheep have been responsible for most of the world's corruptness. She told me all the signs, the crop circles, the _secret sheep establishment,_ she even went in depth about the ancient bloodline of sheep. I went to bed that night thinking she was crazy. I had planned on moving out, but when I woke up the next morning, she was back to her normal self.

This would be a common occurrence. She would be her usual self, and then she would see something on the news about sheep and she would get into one of her _moods_. She's a nice mammal, but she has her moments.

* * *

_"WHAT DOES THIS LOOK LIKE TO YOU?"_

I snapped out of my stupor. The freshly-printed paper now waved sporadically in front of my face. I grabbed the sheet, straightening it out and holding it away from my face. The paper had a color coordinated chart of the sheep population in the city-state from the past 50 years.

I scoffed.

"Looks to me like a waste of colored ink."

She snatched the paper from my paw and headed toward the sink.

“ _I'm telling ya! —The woolskins are behind everything!!!”_

I looked out the window. The curtains began to glow as the sun started to dimly light up the sky outside. By the sound of her scratchy voice, the badger had probably been up all night doing research on sheep.

I heard the squeak of the trapdoor opening.

"This is CRUCIAL evidence!"

I smirked at the thought of her squeezing down the hole and into the bunker. She would probably spend most of the day in there.

" _CRUCIAL!"_

Her voice was now muffled below the surface. I finished my breakfast and headed out the door.

Today was just another Monday.

* * *

 


	2. Koslov's Job

 

* * *

"Hey big guy! Where yah going?"

The slurred accent made me cringe. I drove my feet into the snow and continued forward, pulling my shirt up and tucking my arms into my chest. The sidewalk was fairly empty, but avoiding the sneers of strangers was nearly impossible.

The elk piped up as I passed.

"Come on _Mr. Business!_ —must be somewhere important, yeh?

I scoffed. Prey always seemed to be amused by the sight. Over half of the predator population was homeless, yet here I was, wearing a suit and tie and heading towards my prestigious job. I responded with a sigh.

“Not even wasting my time with you…”

“Oh come on foxy! —Cold getting to ya?!”

I shrugged as I passed by. I would have loved to turn around and give them a piece of my mind, but from I've learned over the years, talking with prey was equivalent to bashing your head into a brick wall.

Besides, I was going to be late.

“Hey— How about we get an officer over here to give ya a little shock, eh? —That should warm ya up all nice and toasty!”

The two began to laugh hysterically. I scoffed. I took a deep breath of frigid air and continued forward, trying to avoid the cadant cackles of the bozzos behind me.

Shock collar jokes were commonplace in Zootopia. I've heard enough to not be offended anymore, just annoyed. The insults, the jokes, the puns; all of them were overused by prey who couldn't come up with anything better to say. No matter how many times the jokes were told however, _they_ always found it painfully hilarious. It was comedy gold. I found myself tugging at my collar. With my destination now in sight, I looked at my watch.

_6:37_

The Tundra Bureau was stagnant and calm. The soft glows of the snow-covered rooftops filled the streets with a diffusion of light. Cars eased down the streets, the snow insulating the sounds of sputtering engines as they passed. For those who called this place home, today was just another beautiful weekday. The year round snowfall paid no heed to the weather beyond the bureau. It was always winter here. It was always blisteringly cold.

I used to stay away from the discomfort of the bureau, but for a while now, I've been making more and more trips over here. I had a job now, and today, I had work to do.

I had received a letter last night from none other than my notorious employer, Koslov. The details of my mission were especially vague. I still had the note in my possession:

" _Wilde. Meet me at the Palace at 6:45 tomorrow morning. New job. Won't take long. Wear something nice. - K"_

The polar bear's family were the founders of a notorious gang. He was currently one of the most highly respected kingpins in the Tundra Bureau. I've heard stories of his gang getting into shootouts and holding massive drug operations. The city was good at cracking down on predatory crime, but his establishment remained on top for the past few decades. His gang, the _Koroli_ , had been in a large number of mafia wars against the Big family. However, for the past few years, the two organizations were in a long lasting _"truce of indifference.”_ It was good news for me. I wasn't technically in the gang myself, but affiliating with the wrong mammals here could get me killed…

But then again, I was a predator in a prey world. There were a lot of things that could get me killed.

…

" _Koslov's."_

The large, arrow-shaped sign blinked it's bright, neon lights in a steady rhythm. The restaurant was huge. It was as if somebody dropped a mountain onto the middle of a city block. The snow-covered walls were carved and shaped into stacked rooms and hallways. Small, glowing windows were dotted around its exterior, filling the air with a soft and subtle luminance.

The Palace was open from six to midnight. It was home to countless bar fights and small-scale shootouts. The restaurant was a hotspot for criminal activity. The government was in charge of shutting down places like this, but ever since Koslov rose to power, the restaurant remained untouched. It seemed that neighborhoods and districts with lower prey populations were monitored less. Either the government didn't know about the restaurant’s operations, or simply, they didn't care.

I walked through the towering front doors. The warmth of the interior washed over me as I entered. The smells of liquor and cigar smoke floated through the air around me. The main foyer was dimly lit. The light of flickering lanterns bounced off the snow, bathing it in a deluge of orange. Even though the building was mostly constructed with ice, the place felt comforting and inviting.

There were only a few predators in the building. They sat by themselves with steaming mugs in their paws and empty thoughts in their heads. The green glows of their collars shone noticeably through the gloom. The surrounding silence was filled with the static sounds of a nearby radio. Nobody talked; it was too early for that. I made my way towards the back end of the diner. I wasn't here for coffee.

I got to a large, spiral staircase and began to head up. Doorways and openings were located throughout the single, winding wall. I passed by offices and closets as I climbed up the tall steps. The journey was lengthy. The grand stairwell was built for one of the largest polar bears I've met, making each exhausting leap all the more tiring. The varying sizes of mammals was almost always taken into account when designing buildings in the city. However, it seemed that Koslov lacked the consideration.

Eventually, I reached the top floor. The level only consisted of a small waiting room and Koslov’s executive office. Only a select few had the privilege to be up here, and when they were, it was usually for illegal matters. I stepped out of the stairwell and into the room.

Three vixens about my age were working the front office. They sat on a tall swivel chairs behind an L-shaped desk in the back corner of the room. To the left, the muddled sounds of a dreary discussion filtered in from behind a closed door. Koslov was already seeing someone.

The room’s elegance was a stark contrast from the dimly lit tavern below. Instead of ice, the walls were constructed with drywall and painted purple, the Koroli’s gang color. Portraits and paintings hung on every side. Many of them were either stolen or illegally traded-in for lump sums of money. However, a few of them were portraits of the bear himself, sitting with his beloved son, Morris. On the right side of the room sat a large couch and a coffee table. I looked over to see a familiar face on the sofa…

…

…

…

I started to chuckle.

It was Finnick the fennec fox. He sat with his arms folded tight and his face fuming with anger. His eyes twitched and his nose wrinkled. He was wearing a nurse outfit.

“Shut the fuck up, Nick.”

His low-pitched voice made me laugh even harder.

“ _What the fuck are you wearing!?”_

“ _He told me to wear this!”_

I put my paw to my chin and walked over to the coffee table. My eyes were locked on the amusing sight.

“God… you look _so cute!!!”_

“Fuck you.”

“You're like one of those children that dresses up for trick-or-treating.”

“Can you stop looking at me!?”

“Oh I'm sorry, Nurse Finn… _Do I need to make an appointment?”_

“ _UGGHHH.”_

I continued to laugh. I’ve known the fox for a few years now. We worked together when I was a late teenager. We used to travel the city and swindle mammals out of their money. Even though we weren't _technically_ breaking any laws, the police were quick to catch up on us. A few months in jail later, and well, we were out of a job. Finnick went on to open up a bar across town, while I went from job to job looking for work. I eventually found a steady income through Koslov’s jobs, and whenever Finnick needed some extra cash, he would join me and work for him too. We did the gang’s dirty work. We were their pawns, the most likely to be caught by the authorities. It was a risky business, but it paid well…

“So… What's on today’s agenda, Doctor?”

I pushed my paws into my pockets and smirked. Finnick was unamused by my banter. He responded tiredly.

“Hell if I know… _K_ doesn't tell us shit…”

His voice trailed off. I glanced over to the receptionist’s desk. The vixens typed hurriedly at their stations, looking through documents and counting wads of cash. They spoke to each other in hushed whispers. Finnick continued.

“So what about you?”

I looked back.

“What about me?”

“The fuck have you been doing? —Shit, I'm surprised nobody's capped your sorry ass since our last job…”

“... And what's that supposed to mean?”

Finnick scoffed, readjusting his nurse’s hat and leaning up from his slouched position.

“I'm saying that you need to get your shit straight, man… Lift some weights— get in shape… learn how to shoot a gun!”

“—Why are you telling me this?”

“Because…”

The fox got up, stepping onto the wooden table between us and walking over to face me. I crossed my arms and listened.

“ _... You're weak as fuck!”_

I smirked.

“Says the two-foot gangster in a nurse outfit—”

“— _No I'm serious! I can't keep saving your ass every time shit hits the fan! —You need to fend for yourself, man! Remember what happened during the Naughtweller job?”_

“Okay— that tiger was like eight feet tall—”

“— _He knocked you out in one punch!!!”_

I raised my paws.

“Okay, okay… Maybe you're right… I'm not that strong, _but—_ I'm perfectly fine. I can handle myself.”

Finnick shook his head and stepped back, turning around and climbing back onto the couch. He was overreacting. The two of us had gotten our fair share of shocks and beatings. It was part of being so small. I didn't need him telling me what to do. I've gotten by with what I had, and I definitely don't need him—

_***SLAM** _

“ _GET THE HELL OUT OF MY OFFICE YOU FELINE FUCK!!!”_

Our heads shot over to Koslov's office. The door was wide open. Suddenly, a cheetah bolted out of the office and into the waiting room with a horrified expression on his face. He ran towards the exit and ripped the door open, sprinting into the hallway and rushing down the staircase. I turned my head back. The vixens were seemingly unphased by the commotion. One of them called out with a friendly tone.

“Nicholas, Finnick— Koslov would like to see you now.”

I looked back to Finnick. He appeared to be as confused as I was. Hesitantly, the two of us went over to the front desk. After a few lingering seconds, the two of us entered the room, unsure of what we were getting into…

…

…

…

“AHH— NICHOLAS, FREDERICK IT IS NICE TO SEE YOU!”

The polar bear’s accented yells welcomed us into the room. Finnick closed the door behind us as we made our way towards the desk. The annoyed fox piped up as we got to our seats.

“Finnick— It's Finnick… Not Frederick.”

“QUIET FINNEGAN— WE HAVE BUSINESS TO GET TO!”

He shrugged as we sat down. The room was illuminated by a film of filtered light that poured through the window blinds. An assortment of bookshelves and photographs lined the walls around us. The office was decorated with over a decade’s worth of running a notorious gang. The large polar bear walked behind his desk, acting as if the recent confrontation didn't even happen. His voice was loud and energetic.

“Do any of you care for a drink?”

He bent over and began to pour liquor into a glass cup. After a few moments, he glanced up at us. We refused his offer with silent declinations.

“Huh— suit yourselves…”

He bent back down and emptied the bottle, filling the cup all the way to the brim. He tossed the glass bottle into the trashcan with a quiet smash.

“You know what mammals tell me? They tell me that I can't drink liquor in the morning… And you know what I have to say for that?”

He didn't wait for a response. He tilted his head up and downed the entire glass in one, gargantuan gulp. The bear swallowed, slamming the cup back on the table and wiping his mouth.

“... I say fuck that! —I'm my own mob boss and can drink _whatever_ the fuck I want, _whenever_ the fuck I want!”

The two of us watched quietly as he put his cup away and took a deep breath. Without hesitating, he bent over and reached down below his desk. After a few moments, he rose back up with a first aid kit, setting it down on the table in front of us.

“Finley, you'll be taking this to Westbork Regional Hospital— I have a… ‘ _friend’_ at the capital who needs some campaign funds for this month’s election…”

Finnick stood up on his chair, reaching over the desk to grab the large container.

“ _Campaign funds? —What? We're working with politicians now?”_

“Oh don't worry… I've worked with him before— gotta love them highbinders!”

The fox took the box and pulled it off the desk. He immediately fell back in his seat, dragged down by the unexpected weight of the contents within.

“Oh— _God…_ What the fuck is in here!?”

“200 ounces of solid gold.”

Finnick scoffed at sizable amount. He lifted the first aid kit up to his stomach and peeked inside.

“The trade off spot is on the southwest end of the property in the old medical records department… Not too many cameras there, plus, most of it is under construction…”

The fox nodded. Koslov continued.

“... You’ll be escorted to the hospital by some of my boys, but once you're there, you're on your own… Blend in and keep a level head… There's a hospital pass in that box if you're asked by someone. Be sure to have it on you—”

“—Wait, what about Nick?”

“Oh— he won't be joining you today… He has a job of his own… Now get going! The car’s waiting downstairs!”

Finnick smirked, turning around and punching me in the shoulder as he got up.

“ _Oh— look at that! —Nick’s got his own solo gig! Hehe… They grow up so fast!”_

He started to laugh. The fox hopped off the chair and made his way towards the door behind me. I could hear the snickering sneers as he exited.

“ _Good luck! Don't get your face beaten in— again!”_

His laughs left with him, growing quieter and quieter as the door closed behind him. I sat back in my chair and crossed my arms. I ignored the annoyance, trying to focus my attention on the job ahead of me. It was just me and Koslov now. The two of us sat in a brief silence…

…

…

…

“Alright Nicky, let’s see what we have for you…”

I watched as the bear bent down beside his desk. He then briskly brought out a briefcase and set it down on the table. The case looked tiny in his massive paws, but for me, it was just the right size. He unlatched the box and opened it up, only to discover that the case was empty.

“Huh… Not a problem.”

Koslov stood back up and pushed his chair to the side. He turned around and began to march over to the room’s single closet. The bear reached into his pocket and got out a set of keys, whistling a peppy tune as he leaned down to unlock the closet door. After a few seconds, he twisted the key and swung the door open.

Inside, the small room was filled with a staggering mountain of cash. I felt my face heat up; the sheer amount of money was uncanny. I watched as Koslov bent down and began to shove dollar bills into the small briefcase…

…

…

…

I snapped out of my stupor, turning back and shifting my attention elsewhere. I would kill a mammal to have that much money. Oh, the things I could do. I could move out of Happytown, I could open my own business. Hell, I could even build a theme park with that amount of cash. Koslov was easily one of the richest predators in the city. If only I had what he had…

I tried not to think about it.

I began to look around the room, struggling to ignore the sounds of scraping dollar bills beside me. I looked up to the walls. The paintings and artworks were too far away to see clearly. Along the bookshelves, a large collection of novels were organized by volume. The books had collected a good amount of dust; it was clear that Koslov didn't do a lot of reading.

I looked back down at the desk. Picture frames were arranged on either side of the desk. I started to look through them. Many of the photos were of Koslov and his son, Morris. It was odd to see an intimidating kingpin appear so… gentle. He looked like a proud father, someone who was kind, someone who wasn't a well known gangster. The two of them looked so happy together. The child’s glowing smile seemed to burn its way into my head. I felt uncomfortable.

I looked away.

The images in front of me were almost all the same, however, there was a single picture that was different from the rest. I was now staring at a much younger Koslov, standing next to an even younger grey wolf. The bear was in his thirties while the other appeared to be in his early twenties. I didn't recognize the latter, but they seemed to be fairly close—

_***SLAM** _

“Alright!”

I leaped up in my chair. Catching my breath as I turned back to face the other end of the desk. Koslov took a seat, glancing over to the picture I was staring at. He cleared his throat before continuing.

“I have a buddy down near the Oasis Strip, and I need to pay him for some shit I bought… There's roughly $8,000 in this briefcase, and I need you to deliver it to the Magi Café just a few blocks south of the casino…”

I nodded and took the briefcase, keeping my ears poised and ready to listen.

“... One of his delivery boys will be there with a briefcase just like yours… You sit down, have a cup of coffee or whatever, and get out just like normal folks do. When you leave, you're picking up _his_ briefcase, and he's picking up _yours_. Got it?”

I nodded. It sounded like a easy job. I go in, act like I'm talking with a business partner, and get out. It was a classic suitcase-swap; plain and simple. I pulled the briefcase down to my side and stood up from my chair.

“Alright, take the subway system down to the Oasis Hotel… You need to be there by eight— Keep your head low and act like a normal, working class citizen…”

I nodded again, turning around and heading towards the door. I glared down at my watch.

_7:06_

I had just under an hour to get there.

* * *

The city streets were bustling with the chaos of early morning activities. The sun began to crest over the rows of buildings on either side of me, pouring its warmth onto crowded road below. The February frost began to evaporate into the cool air. Even in the Sahara Bureau, the nights were always cold.

I held the briefcase close to my side, avoiding the apathetic gazes of passing strangers above. I wounded my way through the towering crowds, making my way south down the Oasis Strip. A looming pressure built up from inside. This was my first solo job. I couldn't fuck this up.

“ _BLACKWELL FOR DISTRICT REPRESENTATIVE!!!”_

“ _BLACKWELL FOR DISTRICT REPRESENTATIVE!!!”_

The annunciated chants yelled out from ahead. The sidewalk cluttered up as I got closer to the commotion. A small gathering of prey bunched up near the side of the pathway, passing around flyers and chanting out the same phrase.

“ _BLACKWELL FOR DISTRICT REPRESENTATIVE!!!”_

“ _BLACKWELL FOR DISTRICT REPRESENTATIVE!!!”_

I kept my head low as I walked by. I was never up to date with city politics, but from what I could tell, there was always some sort of election going on. Prey were addicted to them. New mammals were being appointed every month, and when they weren't in office, they were campaigning in the city streets. There were countless amounts of councils and departments in the capital. It didn't matter whether or not they were necessary, prey loved their government, and they definitely loved voting.

The sounds of their hollering sunk into the sea of voices around me. I continued on, keeping my eyes on the ground and my thoughts in check. I looked down at my watch:

_7:48_

I was on time.

I started to glance around, looking over the crowds in search for the restaurant. I wasn't given clear directions on where I was going, and I rarely visited this part of the city. I kept my eye out for any signs or banners, but the more I looked, the less certain I became. The city blocks were lined with a wide range of different shops and stores. Singling one out was increasingly difficult.

I started to get anxious.

My vision was blocked by mammals who were much bigger than I was. Prey didn't care about my personal space. They shoved me around and pushed me forward **.** I was unable to see where I was going. No. I couldn't fuck this up. I needed to find it. I needed to be on time. I felt my heart pick up in pace. My throat became taut, and my legs grew weak. I had no idea how I was going to—

“ _Outta the way shitbag!”_

I felt someone kick me from behind. I stumbled forward, barely able to stay on my feet. I readjusted my tie as I regained my balance. Slowly, I took a deep breath and moved along with the flowing crowd.

_Alright, don't panic. Don't be nervous._

I conversed with myself in my head to ease my thoughts.

_You're gonna blow your cover. Don't act suspicious._

I concentrated on keeping calm. Zootopia was a city of paranoia. Cameras were mounted on lampposts and streetlights. Officers were stationed on every street corner. All eyes were on us. If you were a predator, you were being watched. I was being watched. If I looked suspicious, then I was putting a target on my back. I couldn't stand out. There were other predators in the crowd with me. Yes. I was one of them.

_Act natural._

I obliged to my thoughts and cleared my head. I was on my way to work, eager to get to my prestigious job on the Oasis Strip. I was doing nothing wrong. I was doing fine.

_Okay. Okay. That's good. Keep going._

I was approaching a street corner. An officer stood with his paws on his hips. Not a problem. In fact, I actually liked the police. Sure, they were abusive and used excessive force, but I was an upstanding citizen now! I wasn't a criminal. I was on their side!

_Great. Yes. Okay! Be like everyone else! Be happy!_

I sighed and put a smile on my face. I breathed in the fresh scents of the morning air. I felt the sun shine down on me with its almighty warmth. Today was a beautiful day.

“Good morning officer!”

“ _Shut the fuck up!”_

I quickened my pace as I walked by, shaking my head and sighing in reserved annoyance.

_Okay, maybe not that happy…_

I staggered across the street and made it to the other side. I kept my head up as I continued to stare at the passing shops and stores. Most, if not all of them were prey-only businesses. Signs were posted on front doors and entrances to ward off any curious predators who walked by. Simply stepping into a segregated zone was a punishable offense.

As I made my way down, the crowds became less and less dense. The pushing and shoving had stopped, and I soon got a better view of where I was going. Signs and banners hung from above and waved in the wind. The traffic on the street lessened as I got further away from the hotel…

…

…

…

I was about seven blocks down when I finally reached the café.

I arrived at 7:51. The small restaurant had only a few customers in it. Businesses that permitted predators were usually much more inactive. I stepped through the front entrance and looked around. I wasn't told who I’d be meeting, but I knew they'd have a briefcase exactly like mine. I glanced across the tables…

I found my guy.

The otter sat in the back corner of the small diner. He was wearing an oversized suit with a long, yellow tie. His lanky appearance was matched by his uncomfortable demeanor. Below him, on the ground, the decoy briefcase sat upright next to the tall, single leg of the table.

He looked worried.

His legs bounced in his seat, and his paws were clasped tightly on the table. The otter’s apprehensive appearance was unsettling, but I decided to ignore it. We were both nervous, I was just good at hiding it.

I made my way over.

"Hello there! —You must be…"

I trailed off, allowing him to introduce himself properly. The otter looked up from the table and locked eyes with mine. He stalled momentarily, but his hesitancy diminished when he spotted the briefcase in my grasp.

"Oh— uh… Jack— _Jack Thomas_ … And— you are…?"

"Devin Graham… Nice to meet you."

We shook paws. Now having exchanged our fake names, I placed my briefcase beside his, making sure mine was closer to his chair. I jumped onto the seat across from him. He took of my actions.

“ _So… Uhhh— w… wonderful weather we're having…”_

His voice was strained and shaky. I looked up at him, taken back by the overused statement. I thought I was nervous, but hell, this guy looked terrified. I smirked, clasping my paws together and leaning forward.

“Yeah… It's pretty nice…”

“ _You know— uh… Us otters have one of the thickest fur coats in the whole animal kingdom… Makes it— uh… less cold in the winters…”_

“Oh— that's… that's pretty neat.”

“ _Yeah— yeah! It is…”_

I kept myself from scoffing. Not that amused or anything, but this conversation had gotten weird really quickly. The two of us became silent. We waited for many uncomfortable seconds, unsure of what to do next. Luckily, a hostess came by to save us from further awkwardness.

“What are you having?”

The gazelle spoke with an aggravated mumble. She stood with an sneering stance. I glanced over at the otter before looking down at my menu.

“Oh— I'll be having a—”

_"—We'll have waters…”_

I looked back at the otter. He glanced over at me before looking back at the gazelle.

“ _... Just— waters… Please.”_

The hostess sighed, putting her own and paper down and walking away from the table.

_"Their coffee is horrendous… It tastes like sand— trust me.”_

I nodded slowly and looked down. He sat with his paws gripping the rim of the small table. His legs jumped and bobbed in his seat. I wasn't sure why he was anxious, but I had the suspicion that this was his first job. I started the conversation. I needed him to be comfortable.

"So, where're you from?"

I tried to act as friendly as possible. The otter looked up, the light from the windows reflecting off of his glasses.

_"Oh… Um— I just moved in from the Canal District."_

I sat up, leaning back in my swivel chair and spinning side to side.

“Ah… I see— you know… I actually lived in the Jungle Bureau for while.”

“ _You— you did?”_

“Yep. Belmarsh… Down by the docks— Pretty nice place.”

“Oh… That's— that’s cool…”

I could sense the tension leave from his mind. He let go of the table and rested his paws on the table, speaking with a more relaxed tone.

“You know… I actually— I actually met someone from there who—”

“ _HEY!”_

Suddenly, a muffled yell sounded from outside the front entrance. The commotion caught the attention of the otter. He looked over my shoulder and stared outside. I followed his eyes, turning around to face the window.

An antelope was arguing with a bobcat. Their agitated voices were partially muted by the large glass windows of the café. The antelope seemed to be the aggressor, rubbing chests with the predator and throwing his arms up in the air. The bobcat didn't back down. I turned back to face the otter. His eyes were still glued to the fight.

"Well I was just thinking…"

I tried to ignore the intrusive argument outside. The yelling only became louder.

"...that since we're here, we should probably talk about—"

A loud scream came from outside, instantly cut off by a familiar buzzing sound. I whipped around. The bobcat was on the ground, shaking violently and uncontrollably. His arms and legs sprawled out across the pavement. The antelope looked pleased.

"That's what you get you filthy _pred!_ "

Almost immediately, two police officers arrived, probably the ones who triggered the bobcat's collar to shock. The antelope seemed to enjoy the sight of the predator gasping for air on the sidewalk. He stood with his arms crossed, snickering to himself as the officers detained the predator.

Around them, nearly no one on the street paid attention to the convolution. Predators looked away from the scene, while prey occasionally smirked while passing by. The sight of the crippled bobcat seemed to make their day a little bit better. One mammal even spat on the bobcat, uttering something under his breath before walking away.

_***Clink** _

I jumped in my seat and turned around. The antelope had set our drinks down, leaving us without saying a word.

_"Things are getting bad."_

I looked up to face the otter. His voice was stern and grievous. His demeanor shifted suddenly and without warning. The jitteriness was placed by pure dread. His attention was fully focused on the officers outside.

I leaned closer. I wasn't exactly sure what he meant. Fights like that were common in the city. He started to readjust his collar. I spoke up hesitantly.

"What? —Things… Things have always been bad.”

Still staring at the scene behind me, he gulped and took a sip of his water. Something was wrong. The nervousness he felt began to wash over me.

_"Well, they're getting worse… Much worse."_

His eyes snapped back toward me. He glanced thoughtfully, as if there was something important he wanted to tell me. No. He was staring now, his attention solely on me. I could fully sense it now. Something was eating away at him, something was making him scared. No. It was making him terrified. His gaze burrowed its way into mine, as if he was trying to climb inside my head and see what I was thinking. I didn't know what to think. I didn't know what to say. The otter's expression shifted from inquisitive to observant. No, wait. I had seen the look before. As a fox, not many mammals saw me as a loyal guy. I had definitely seen that look before…

He was trying to figure out if he could trust me.

I could see it in the otter's eyes. Doubt. Suspicion. I could almost spot the thoughts racing through his head. Whether it was from Koslov, or from previous employers, I had seen the look before; It was the type of look that mammals made when trying to read minds. The look that judges made when deciphering a suspect's guilt. The look that bosses made when assigning their employees with important jobs. It was a look of uncertainty. It was a look of qualm.

But there was another part about the otter's expression that seemed different. Something that I haven't seen before. Unlike Koslov, or a judge, or an officer, the otter didn't look demanding or authoritative. His expression didn't seem judgmental or critical. No, it was something else…

_He was_ _desperate._

He knew something I didn't. He broke the stare, now looking down into his lap. He had made up his mind.

"My name is Tyler Gunsdon."

He was practically whispering now. The otter got out a slip of paper from his pocket and slid it across the table towards me.

"This is my phone number and address. Call me when the time comes."

He quickly stood up and took my money-stuffed briefcase without a word. I turned around and opened my mouth, but nothing could came out. My mind went blank. I had no idea what just happened. Part of me wanted to follow him, but I remained where I sat. I was frozen.

A bell jingled as the glass door swung open, filling the restaurant with the sounds of the outside world. Without looking back, the otter made his way out of the restaurant and into the street. I watched as he disappeared into the obscurity of the passing crowds. The door softly closed shut, and the sounds were again muted.

* * *

 


	3. Life in The Grotto

 

* * *

The air was filled with the refreshing scent of morning dew. The grass was dotted with little specks of luminance; droplets of last night's rainfall reflected the early sunlight.

Honey and I walked quietly through the Grotto. The small, black case she was carrying bounced off her side as she swung her arms limply. Overgrown trees stood tall against the deserted overpasses. Grass sprouted through the cracks of the untreated pavement. Nature was taking back what it had once owned.

The Grotto was a quiet community that was built on the forgotten grounds of south Happytown. Makeshift houses and shacks lined the weed-covered roads. The majority of them were elevated on stilts due to the area's proneness to flooding. Many houses were stacked on top of one another, built by the homeless and inexperienced workers.

Mammals constructed their homes with whatever they could scavenge. Unused lumber and wooden boards were nailed together to make walls, and recycled metal sheets were used as roofs. Many of the houses here did not have plumbing or electricity. Many of the water lines were shut off, and power outages were often.

The area had once been populated with a number stores and shops. The neighborhood was built underneath a major highway that connected the Happytown district to the rest of the Savannah Bureau. That was until the old bridge that connected the Grotto to the rest of the city was demolished, and the highway was rerouted further north. The already-low-traffic area became a ghost town, and the city eventually stopped maintenance.

And after decades of neglect, the abandoned part of the district blossomed with life.

Trees grew inside crumbling apartment buildings. Below, overgrown grass took over the paved streets and sidewalks. The walls of the underpasses were covered in a spectrum of colorful graffiti. The city allowed the place to thrive, even when it was mostly inhabited by predators. The Grotto did have crime from time-to-time, but robberies were uncommon. Its residents were too poor to own anything of decent value.

It was odd.

While crime and corruption thrived in city-regulated districts, the abandoned neighborhood of the Grotto was a sanctuary. You would expect a place without police-protection to be a hub for crime, but that was simply not the case. Crimelords have always avoided the Grotto. Gang members would tell you that this is because no one cared about the dirty slum, but after living here for over six months, I've been getting the suspicion that lack of interest wasn't the only reason why the Grotto was neutral ground.

Like I said, the Grotto is a sanctuary, and for many of us predators, it's all we have.

Honey and I continued down the street. The smell of smoke radiated through the air as we passed by a small bonfire. A panther and his two elderly parents were huddled around the barrel. They each held mugs and chatted as they tried to keep warm. It was a chilly morning. Honey had a green turtleneck on and I wore one of my heavier jackets. We walked with the sun to our backs.

"You sure you'll be able to shoot with those nippy little fingers? —I mean, it's pretty cold out."

Her voice was jokingly sarcastic.

"Fuck— Not as cold as your personality."

"Oh, come on Nick! You know you love me."

"Tolerate would be a better word… I tolerate you."

I couldn't say it with a straight face. It was true. Honey was like a sister to me. 90% of our conversations consisted of jokes and friendly insults. Her sarcastic remarks were always deflected by my quick wit. When she wasn't in one of her moods, she was a great mammal to be around.

She raised the black case up to her chest.

"You are aware that I have a gun with me, right?"

"And what would you do? —Shoot me?"

"Nah, ammo's too expensive."

I scoffed. We kept walking toward the shore. The empty highways and overpasses began to merge into one. Our destination was near the old bridge location. The sounds of the crashing waves began to grow louder. We were almost to Finnick’s bar.

“So… What's making you want to learn how to shoot?”

I snickered.

“The hell are you talking about? —I already told you…”

“No you haven't! —Seriously!”

I grinned as I swallowed. The true reasonings behind my urgency sorely stuck out in the back of my head. I avoided the unsettling memory as I responded.

“ _I don't know…_ Same reason why you have a bunker below your sink.”

“ _Ahhh…_ The fine art of preparation… You know— you can never be too careful.”

“Yeah— but you can become a paranoid maniac in the process—”

“ _Oh shut up!”_

Honey and I entered the dimly lit pub. There were a pair of hyenas laughing hysterically in a booth. On the other side of the room, a leopard sat alone drinking a cup of coffee while reading the newspaper, seemingly annoyed by the non-stop laughter.

"Nick! Honey!"

A raccoon called out from behind the counter. It was Simon Coon, co-owner of the Fox Hollow Pub. Even though the two mammals ran the place together, Simon was at the restaurant the majority of the time. Today, he seemed a little too glad to see us. The hyenas appeared to be getting on his nerves too.

We approached the counter.

"Simon! What's up, where's Finnick?"

"Probably hungover somewhere… You guys here for the range?"

Honey and I both nodded. Simon was already heading to the back to get the keys.

"AND THEN HE… HE- HWAHWAHEHEE"

The story was apparently so hysterical that the hyenas weren't even able to complete a full sentence before breaking down in a fit of mad laughter. The leopard had enough. He got up and left with his newspaper, swearing under his breath.

"Here ya go!"

The raccoon tossed the keys to Honey. One of the hyenas spat out his water and the two were nearly screaming now. We were only there for 30 seconds and their laughter was already too much. We walked out the back entrance as soon as we could.

"Another second in there and I would have pulled my fucking gun out."

The bar was built on a hill, untouchable from the occasional floods. The back of the pub had a balcony for outside eaters overlooking the bay. The sun had risen a good amount since we left the house. The sunlight skipped off the water and shone brightly in our eyes. A small, twisting path led down the cliff-side to a large strip of pavement surrounded by a chain link fence. The firing range was very basic. An old food truck was parked at one end, while a concrete slab sat at the other. A large mound of sand stood behind the slab. Whenever there's flooding, Finnick has guys dig up the washed-up sentiment from off of the concrete and pile it up at the end of the range to stop stray shots.

Honey used the key to open up the gate. Finnick usually never let anyone use his range. He only gave access to those he trusted, and usually he had them pay. Honey and I were the only exception. The badger had always been good friends with Simon, and I had helped Finnick in a couple of different hustles. We had free access to the range, as long as we used our own guns.

Ever since I moved in, Honey had invited me to go to the range with her every other day. I at first declined her offers, but eventually gave in and watched her shoot from the window of the food truck. She very recently started to teach me the basics; how I should stand, how I should hold guns, not pointing it at mammals… I was never what you would call a natural. Even though I lived a life of crime, I never really found it necessary to keep a gun…

Then, last week, I met an otter.

I still had his number on my nightstand. I had copied the otter's info and put it in my wallet and in Honey's bunker, just in case I lost the slip of paper he gave me.

He was right, things were getting worse.

Police traffic had increased over the past week. Koslov told me that he'd never seen anything like it. The amount of jobs he gave out decreased by over half, and many of the gang’s members have been either arrested or taken from their homes. Koslov advised us to stay low for a while, and now, I'm spending my the majority of my days here in the Grotto.

For the past week, I had been insisting on going to the range everyday. Honey never argued, she had always wanted me to be able to defend myself.

"Ok Mister Wilde, we'll start off by you telling me the four Cardinal rules for safely handling a gun."

She laid the box down on the picnic table beside the food truck. The front paneling of the old truck folded up, providing us with a decent amount of shade. We had gone over this a million times it seemed, but Honey didn't mess around. My safety was her priority. I answered swiftly.

"Treat every gun as if it was loaded, don't aim at things you don't want to shoot, finger off the trigger until it's shooting time, and always know what's around your target."

"Pretty much."

She got a bottle from the truck and ran down toward the concrete slab. She yelled over her shoulder.

"Put your gear on! And don't shoot me!"

"I'll try not to!"

I got into the truck to find a box of earplugs and goggles. It wasn't what one would consider a professional setup, but it was close enough for what the Grotto had. I stepped out of the truck, my visibility was blurred by the thick lens of my goggles. I met Honey outside. She smirked at my appearance.

"You look like an idiot."

"You run like an idiot."

She opened the box containing the gun and ammo.

"Alright, show me how to handle the gun safely."

I picked up the gun. After making sure it was unloaded, I took a full magazine out of the box and loaded it. Now facing the bottle, I turned the safety off and lifted the gun up. I firmly grasped the gun and pulled the slide back.

"Fire away!"

I got into position and aimed the gun toward the bottle. I focused on my target, and firmly squeezed the trigger.

I fought against the gun's recoil as it shot. The bottle stayed in tact as a small explosion hit the sand nearly three feet to the right. I readjusted and fired again, this time, I had shot two feet to the left.

"Wilde!"

I turned around with the gun still pointed down the range. She was yelling from the inside of the truck. The oversized earplugs made it difficult to hear her.

"Remember! Focus on the gun's sight! Not the bottle!"

_The gun's sight. Of course._ I took a deep breath and steadied my aim. The front sight now aligned with the rear sight, I focused on the sights and aimed at the bottle. I steadied my breathing. The waves continued to crash onto the nearby shore. I could smell the salt in the air. I relaxed and when I was sure enough that I was lined up, I fired.

It took me four more shots, but I finally hit the bottle, it shattered almost instantly.

No longer having a target to shoot at, I turned on the safety and unloaded the gun. I could hear Honey clapping from behind.

"Only 6 shots… Not bad for a beginner."

I had been improving over the past week. My first day actually firing the weapon didn't go so well. The first shot I took was nowhere near the target, and the recoil caused the gun to fly out of my paws and strike me in the face. Honey couldn't stop laughing. Now with a bit more experience and a good teacher, I've been getting a lot more comfortable around guns. I sat the unloaded gun back in its box.

"What are you doing?"

I looked up. Honey was already putting her gear on.

"It's my turn now, foxy!"

* * *

I kept my focus on the tray of fries next to me as I held up the newspaper. Hiding my face from Honey, I waited for her to make her move. My tray of fries remained unscathed, and I began to doubt my original suspicions. But then suddenly, I watched as her paw quickly swiped a fry from the edge of my plate.

"I knew it!"

I slammed the paper down, revealing her mischievous smile as she quickly ate my fry.

"Oh come on! It was only one!"

"Really? Then should I just assume that half of my fries just walked onto your tray while I went to the bathroom?"

She laughed at that, and so did I.

I often forget about my life. I forget about everything that I've been through. I forget about the prey and the collars and the fights. I forget about everything having to do with the outside world. There were times, times like these, when nothing else mattered. Where the Grotto and Honey were all I needed to stay sane. I often forget about the shitty world we lived in, and that was ok. I wish that it could always be like this. I wish that I could always forget.

The Grotto made it easy to forget. Honey made it easy to forget.

We sat there drinking our beers and stealing each other's fries. I talked about how bad at shooting I was, and Honey talked about how far I'd actually come. I talked about how we should go out more often, and she talked about how she couldn't have agreed more.

We left the bar drunk and walked home. The collars we wore didn't exist. There was no such thing as hatred. Prey were great mammals, and we had a bright future ahead of us. The world we lived in simply stopped, allowing us to enjoy what little we had. These were the moments that I secretly stored away in the back of head to keep forever; the moments when we forgot.

We returned home and the world remained frozen. It was only noon but we still went to bed, knowing that when we woke up hungover tomorrow morning, the world would start spinning again.

 


	4. Innocence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, me again.
> 
> So, this is the 2nd story arc of the fanfic. It's purpose is to give us a little glimpse at Nick's childhood and his parents' lives before... uhhh... Yeah, we'll get to that later.
> 
> It's written in 3rd person for you people who kinda don't like 1st person.
> 
> Lol enjoy.

 

* * *

_16 Years ago._

The sun bathed the city in warmth. The busy streets bustled with activity as mammals hurried to and from work. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky.

Subway cars traveled above the streets, the railway tracks protecting the sidewalk from the stinging rays of the late-spring heat. The smells of exhaust and smoke filled the air. The blaring sounds of sirens and honking filled the city with a collage of ambient white noise. The sidewalks were lined with tall apartments that rose beyond the subway tracks. Cracks in the brick walls crawled their way up the building's facade. Trash littered the streets, and public waste baskets were already stuffed full. The city was constantly alive. Outsiders often found the place annoying,

…but for Nick, it was home.

Nick was short. Being a fox, he was already at a natural disadvantage, but compared to others of his kind and age, he was what many would call a late bloomer.

He ventured out the back door of the apartment complex and into the alley that snaked its way behind the apartments. The back of the buildings were soaked in the afternoon sunlight. Drying racks hung from the back porches, allowing the sun to naturally dry off residents' wet clothes. Bushes, much taller than Nick, lined the opposite side of alley. Beyond the tall bushes ran a large storm drain. Nick strolled through the alley, climbing over boxes and crates that were tossed into the pathway. The gravel crunched beneath his feet as he made his way toward a break in the foliage.

A chain link fence divided the alley and the tall drop-off into the storm drain below. The old, rusty fence was barely visible, covered with overgrown weeds and hidden behind the line of bushes. A hole was secretly dug out by the neighborhood kids, giving them access to the large concrete ditch. Nick could now see them below sitting by the water. He crawled underneath the fence and climbed down into the storm drain below.

"What's up guys!"

"Hey Nick! —Check out what Alex has now!"

The weasel motioned toward Alex, the youngest of their little clan. The seven-year-old cub stood triumphantly, readjusting his new accessory. Nick immediately recognized the device. He had one on too.

"Hey… You finally got one!"

"Yep! —just got it this morning at the police station!"

“Sweet!”

The four predators stepped toward Alex. The bear cub tugged and shifted the collar around his neck, seemingly uncomfortable with it on.

"... _Ugh—_ Why’s it so _itchy?”_

“You'll get used to it…”

“Yah but… _ughhh—”_

The annoyed cub continued to pull at the device. The more he moved it, the more agitating it became for him. He eventually gave up, throwing his paws out and tilting his head down. Alex’s voice was weighed down with defeat.

“ _UGHHH— Why do we even have to have these on?!”_

“It's so we don't misbehave… We can't—”

“ _No— but… The adults get to take theirs off! Why’re ours always locked!?”_

The group stood silently. Predators were permitted to remove their collars in the privacy of their homes, but parents were exceedingly sure that their children had theirs on. Child safety locks were attached to the device’s buckle, and without a key, removing it was nearly impossible. It was the way things were in the city. Nick didn't mind wearing his collar, but after his friend’s complaints, he became curious…

…

…

…

The children went back to their usual shenanigans that day, but the question remained in Nick’s head…

…

…

…

* * *

"Hey Mom?"

Nick stood looking up at his mother. The vixen kept her gaze locked on the suit she was patching up. Her voice was soft and energetic.

“Yes sweetie?”

“What happens when you take your collar off?”

She froze. At once, the vixen made eye-contact with her husband across the room, whose typing had stopped upon hearing the question. The room suddenly became filled with an awkward silence, entirely oblivious to Nick. The mother looked back down with a warm smile on her face.

“Well… Nothing really— you've had your collar off before… As long as you're inside, nothing will happen—”

“—But what happens when you're outside?”

Nick's voice was filled with enthusiasm. His mother again looked up at her husband who was trying to avoid the discussion. The pitter-patter of his typewriter began again, slow and drawn-out.

"If you're outside— uh…"

Nick tilted his head in confusion. There was something off about his mother’s expression. The fox had always asked about collars and their purposes, but this was different. The vixen couldn't quite find a way to answer the seemingly simple question.

A train passed by just outside the complex. The light flickered and the apartment began to shake. Soon, as the rumbling subsided, the room was again filled with nothing but the tapping of the typewriter. Looking back down at her son's innocent smile, she thought about how she would respond.

"Well… As you know— a long time ago, us predators made a promise with prey mammals… We could be a part of society as long as we put on these collars everyday…”

She said it in the nicest way possible, and her son seemed to be following along. His expression was that of optimism and curiosity.

“... But if we decide not to wear our collars one day… We break that promise.”

“So… What happens then?”

The tapping of the father's typewriter stopped once more. The room was again filled with the dense silence of weary discomfort. The vixen glanced up momentarily before smiling back down at her son. Her voice was shaky.

"You… _you get in trouble…_ and— well… you get _punished—_ by the police…"

…

…

…

“Oh…”

A bell rang as Nick's dad readjusted the typewriter's carriage. The room was again filled with much-needed sound, making the situation less uncomfortable for the adults. Setting her needle down, Nick's mom grabbed her son by the sides and pulled him up onto her lap.

"... But as long as you wear it everyday, everything will be alright… Promise me you'll do that?”

Nick was comforted by the warm embrace of his mother. He had always felt at-home around his family. The smells of his mother's scent, the pitter-patter of his father's typewriter, the green wallpaper that surrounded them. There was nowhere else Nick wanted to be. The air was no longer dense. The awkwardness had vanished. Even if he was unsatisfied by her ambiguity, the fox felt good. The fox felt happy. It was just the three of them again, like it always was, like it always should have been.

"I promise."

* * *

The rest of the school year continued on for many more months. Nick attended school with a positive attitude, remembering the warm advice given from his mother. In class, students would occasionally get shocked for fooling around, but Nick thought nothing of it. As long as he was well behaved, then he wouldn't have to worried. Part of him believed he could go the whole school year without being zapped.

The weather became colder, and soon, the heat of late autumn disappeared with the passing days. Winter quickly approached; it was the first of November when the first snowfall covered the city in a blanket of snow. Mammals were prematurely getting into the holiday spirit.

The collar didn't have much of an effect on Nick's life. He and his friends still hung out like always, and life kept going at it's usual, relaxed pace. They would go out onto the ice and skate. The boisterous bunch was awful at it, but they didn’t care. The children just slid around on the ice with cold, bare feet. They dragged down large boxes from the alley way above and used them as hockey goals. They didn't have the proper equipment, so they just flopped on the ice while trying to get a tennis ball into each other's nets. Aside from the usual injuries, they always had a blast.

…

…

…

But it was during that first snow day in November when everything started to change…

The sun had already set, and it was getting dark. Nick was on his way back from the ditch, tired from the day's activities. Then, he heard a noise from behind the wooden fence he was passing. Nick looked back. The fence bordered the small yard of a duplex not far from his house. He stopped to listen, thinking that it was one of friends trying to scare him. Nothing but the honks of cars driving by were heard, so Nick kept going.

" _Psssssst!"_

Nick turned around again toward the wooden fence. The boards were nailed adjacent to each other so that there was no way to look inside. A loud whisper called to him.

" _Over here!"_

A hole in the fence caught Nick's attention.

" _Fox, come here!"_

Nick walked toward the hole and looked through it, he was instantly met by a bright purple eye staring back at him.

"...Hi—”

" _Shhh!"_

" _Why are we whispering?"_

" _Because…."_

The eye turned away back toward the house. All Nick could see was the back of the stranger's head. She seemed to be roughly his age.

" _I'm not supposed to be talking to you."_

" _Why?"_

" _Because you're a fox!"_

" _...oh"_

" _But that doesn't matter…"_

Nick watched as one of the planks flung upward, revealing a small gap that he could crawl through.

" _Climb through."_

" _...Wha-"_

" _We need somebody to play the convict."_

" _Oh…"_

Nick thought about turning around and leaving, but this bunny was different. Most prey, especially bunnies, never wanted to even talk to him. But this one… He had never played with a bunny before.

He climbed through the hole.

"Alright, court is now in session."

Nick sat in the snow behind a log. To his left, six other mammals sat in a cut-up cardboard box. Each of them had a view of the rest of the "courtroom." The box was labeled ' _Jury.'_ To his right, a guinea pig sat behind a similar log. At the front, the bunny was sitting behind a cinder block with a toy hammer. It was pretty much dark outside, and the backyard was lit up by the bright lights of the back porch. Nick was the only predator there.

The guinea pig stood up and walked in between Nick's log and the cinder block. He faced Nick and pointed an accusing finger at him.

"I FIND THE DEFENDANT GUILTY!"

The jury gasped.

"Timeout!"

The bunny whacked the toy hammer against the cinder block, squeaking each time it hit.

"That's not how it works, Jeremy."

The guinea pig turned around.

"What? How am I supp-"

"You need to question him first, and then the jury will decide if he's guilty."

"Oh… Ok, I guess."

_*Squeak *Squeak_ "Time-in!"

The guinea pig turned back toward Nick

"So… Mr. _Fox,_ where were you on the 31st of November?"

"Um… I thought November only had 30 days."

The guinea pig turned to face the judge.

"Your honor?"

"He's right. November only has 30 days."

"Shoot."

He turned back around and began to pace back and forth beside the log.

"Okay, where were you on the _30th_ of November?"

"I was uhh… Playing hockey with my friends."

"Right. And who were you playing with?"

"My friends."

"Oh… Well, your honor, it appears that our suspect was at the scene of the crime the day it happened."

The jury gasped again.

"I didn't do it! I swear!"

The guinea pig turned to face the bunny again.

"Your honor, I find the defendant guilty of stealing all of the hockey pucks at the skating rink."

"Do you have any evidence?"

"I don't need any."

"Why?"

"Because, he's a _fox!_ "

"Why?"

"Why what?

"Why is he a fox?"

The guinea pig stood there baffled at the question.

"I don't know."

"You're the prosecutor! Ask him!"

"Oh… Okay."

The guinea pig turned back to the fox.

"Umm… Why… are you a _fox?_ "

"... I don't know… I just am."

The guinea pig looked back at the judge, unsure of what to do.

"You see, the fox didn't choose to be a fox. The fact that he is one isn't enough evidence to prosecute him."

The jury began to talk among themselves, quietly whispering into each other's ears. The guinea pig stood there, unsure of how he could find the fox guilty of anything. Nick was nervous about what the jury would decide.

A slurred yell came from inside the house.

"Kids! It's dark out! Come inside!”

The bunny turned back toward the house.

"One sec! We're almost done!"

She turned back to face the courtroom and began to slam her mallet against the cinder-block. The squeaking made the jury quiet again.

"Ok everyone! Since we are running low on time, I think that we should let the jury decide."

At once, the mammals stood up and walked out of the box, meeting behind it to discuss the fate of Nick. The fox sat there nervously, hoping that they wouldn't find him guilty (even if it was just make-believe). The bunny sat there staring at the fox, mostly examining the collar that he wore around his neck. After a minute, the jury returned to their seats.

"Kids! Get inside!"

The yell was more aggressive this time. Nick was trembling behind his log. Partly because he was getting cold, but mostly because he was nervous about the verdict. The bunny smacked the mallet to silence the other mammals.

"Ok, quickly. Jury, what do you find the defendant?"

Another bunny stood up at the end of the box with a candy wrapper in her paws. She cleared her throat and pretended to read off of it.

"We find the defendant…"

Nick was practically shaking. The prosecuting guinea pig sat behind his log anxiously. The judge had an optimistic expression on her face. It was almost as if she wanted the fox to be found innocent. The suspense was dramatic. The back door had slammed open.

"...Guilty."

"KIDS. INSIDE. NOW."

The goat stood there menacingly with an empty beer bottle in his hooves. At once, the prey rushed toward the back porch. The bunny looked back at Nick apologetically before following the rest back inside.

"YOU!"

The goat's attention was focused on Nick. The fox sat there in the snow, distraught that he had been found guilty.

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING HERE? GET OUT!"

Nick was frozen with fear. All he could see the silhouette of the enraged goat. He started to walk toward the fox.

"CAN YOU FUCKING HEAR ME?"

Nick snapped into focus and stumbled as he ran toward the loose plank in the fence.

"GET THE HELL OUT OF MY YARD!"

The bottle suddenly crashed into the fence above him, sending shards of glass down onto the panicked cub. Nick pushed the plank open and jumped out. He turned toward his house and ran as fast as he could. The goat was still screaming from behind the fence.

"FUCKING VERMIN!"

Nick did not stop running. He had never heard someone act like that, especially toward him. He thought the goat might have been chasing him in the dark, so he kept stumbling through the snow. Tears were already streaming down his face by the time he got to the back door.

* * *

 


	5. The Predcheck

 

* * *

The chaotic collection of sounds bounced off the thick concrete walls of the civic center. The voices of predators resonated throughout the large space. Some of the voices complained, some of the voices were yelling, but I just kept quiet.

The city's civic center was huge. Orange and brown tiles crisscrossed along the floor. Large, marble pillars stood on either side of the main lobby. Behind them, large concrete bricks towered up to the tall ceiling above. The room was illuminated by the white, natural light of the large, tinted sunroof. Different alcoves protruded from the lobby and divided up into separate wings. The building itself was a maze of offices and hallways. Mammals passed by, walking on the different levels of the building's lobby. Most of them ignored the controlled chaos below. To them, it was just another Monday.

The predators were divided into three unmarked lines. The lines were divided by a chain of small, velvet ropes. Prey usually divided us by district, but this time, they had changed things up. I glanced over to the line to my far left. Honey was standing there with her arms folded, looking up at the ceiling with an exhausted look on her face. She seemed to be as equally annoyed as I was. I looked back forward. A fox was arguing with a weasel about who was in front. They were going at it like children. I wanted to be anywhere but here.

Every now and then, one could hear the occasional buzzing of a shock collar going off. The officers seemed to enjoy abusing us with their unfair advantage. They would give you a very small shock, not enough to hurt, but just enough to startle.

There were predators of all shapes and sizes. Babies cried as their mothers desperately tried to calm them down, usually to no avail. Senior citizens used their walkers to slowly wobble down the line. They usually seemed oblivious to the chaos around them and joyfully chatted amongst themselves about current events. An elderly couple stood behind me, talking about their lives as teenagers.

"You know Catherine, I remember when they first instituted collars back in 687!"

"Eugene, you were only three back then. I doubt you remember anything."

"Oh well I do! It was a dark, rainy day, and I had just gotten my toe stuck in the bathtub faucet…"

I zoned out of their conversation. Collars have existed for as long as I could remember. There was this one time when I was taken to the history museum during a class field trip A display case showed a timeline of the history of collars. Collars back in the late 600's were big and bulky. I had heard stories of the first prototypes being faulty and nearly killing their inventor. It seemed like things have always been the same, so it still surprises me to think that there are predators today that had once lived in a life without collars.

The line moved painfully slow. Honey and I had first gotten here at eight, I looked at the large wall clock at the front of the room.

_9:27_

Without the company of Honey, today's mandatory check up seemed to annoying and aggravating. I had usually been able to drown out the ambient chaos and focus on Honey and I's discussions. We would usually talk about stupid subjects, like what would happen if the building caught on fire, or what would happen if the collars suddenly stopped working. Our conversations here mostly consisted of talking about unrealistic events that would never happen. We would plan out our escape plan and everything.

" _Okay, so if the city lost power or something, or like, if we could get out of Zootopia somehow, where would we go?"_

" _I don't know, Honey. I was thinking of like a beach or something. We could stick our feet up and just live by the ocean."_

" _We already live by the ocean, idiot!"_

" _No! I mean-" *chuckle *chucke_

" _I mean like by the beach, you know, where there isn't pollution or piss in the water. Somewhere remote."_

" _So like… on the commercials and stuff."_

" _Yah."_

" _... You would still probably piss in the ocean there, like you do now!"_

" _I don't-... Ok, maybe I do sometimes, but that's because I don't give a shit about this place."_

" _Wow! Nicholas Wilde, fighting cruel specism by pissing into the city's precious water supply! Our hero!"_

" _Oh shut up!"_

I'm pretty sure that we would both like to see one of those unrealistic fantasies actually happen, just to watch the world burn.

_*BUZZZZZZ_

A bright, red light at the front of temporary structure signaled for the next group to move up. The large medical tent was set up at the back end of the lobby. The blue tarp went down to the floor on either side, allowing mammals to enter through the front and exit out the back. Wall dividers separated the tent into twelve separate rooms, four rooms for each designated line. In front of the tent, three sets of predators stood on mats on the floor numbered 1 to 4. At the buzzing of the signal, the groups of four would enter the rooms, and twelve others would move up to take their place on the mats.

Individual events seemed to mush into one as the line barely moved. The buzzing of the tent was the only thing keeping me from dozing off. Crowded places had always annoyed me.

"Hey fuckface! Why the long stare?!"

I at first didn't pay attention to the comment. There was yelling everywhere, and it was probably directed toward someone else.

"Fox! Yeah! You!"

I turned to face source of the voice. A jackrabbit stood there staring straight at me. Two others were behind him, probably his business partners. He wore a brown suit very similar to mine, his tie was too big on him, dripping down past his waist. He stood there with his paws on his hips, wearing a devilish smile on his smug face.

"I heard from a friend of mine that soon, you lowlife chumps won't be able to buy stocks. Isn't that right guys?"

The two of them laughed and nodded. I rolled my eyes. I couldn't care less about the stock market. The bunny approached me nearly whispering now.

"You know, it's a shame because you foxes already contribute _so much_ to society."

I narrowed my eyes. This guy was looking for a fight and he was getting on my nerves very quickly.

"Do you have somewhere to be? _Like—_ Shouldn't you be fucking your wife or something?"

"Oh— _nonononono_ you see… When you're your own boss, _and not scavenging the streets for food,_ you can do whatever the fuck you want! —My meetings don't start until I walk through the door, I can be here all day."

His accomplices nodded to almost every point he made. The signal buzzed loudly as the line started to shift forward. The bunny followed as I walked along the rope.

"You know, you're awful spiffy for a fox. I like the suit! Really, I do! —In fact, I was wanting to ask you which _landfill_ you managed to pick it up from!"

I found myself instinctively clenching my fists. My anger spiked up momentarily. Unwanted thoughts of my parents began to flood my head. The suit shop, the sewing, the neighbors, everything. The laughs of his colleagues bounced off the insides of my skull.

"How 'bout you and your cute little _wabbit_ friends fuck off and find something else to do with your time."

"Oh! Using derogatory terms are we? —Well, I'll have you know that us ' _cute little wabbits'_ can buy you and your pathetic excuse of a family with our pocket change!"

_That's it._

His face contorted as it connected with the blunt blow of my swinging fist. Spit flung out as his head shot back. The jackrabbit collapsed onto the ground, his head making a dull thud as it bounced off of the concrete floor. His partners stood there speechless, watching their leader sprawl out onto the ground. The fox in front of me turned to look at the prey on the ground.

His smirk was the last thing I heard before the world caught on fire.

My vision had blurred and everything lit up. My body shook uncontrollably as thousands of bee-stings jabbed into every inch of my skin. The buzzing of my collar lasted for five seconds, but it felt like a minute. My throat was on fire. I felt something hit the back of my head. I couldn't see. I couldn't breathe.

The buzzing stopped and the shaking subsided. I opened my eyes to be blinded by the skylight above. I was on the ground looking up. It hurt to breathe, but my body thirsted for oxygen. I gasped hoarsely for air. My eyes were dry and crusty. The collar’s metal prongs seemed to burn into my fur.

No one seemed to notice the event unfolding. Prey continued to pass by like nothing had even happened. The predators occasionally looked down at me with pity, many of them knowing the feeling of being shocked. The chaotic sounds of the lobby were drowned out by the ringing in my ears. I felt someone pull at my leg.

"Come on, dirty _fox_!"

I continued to look up and watched as the velvet rope passed by overhead. I felt someone firmly grip my shoulders and pull me up to my feet. I was still unable to walk. My muscles were exhausted after the violent contractions. My head throbbed profusely. My senses slowly became more detectable. The collected clutter of loud voices dug their its way into my ears. My skin began to feel the sharp and painful stings of the air currents. My eyes struggled to detect the moving checkerboard of tiles as the police officers dragged me to the tent.

* * *

"So let me get this straight. A millionaire walked up to you and started to insult you because you wouldn't be able to buy _stocks?_ "

My body spasmed as Honey placed the ice pack around my neck. The ice seemed to burn through the sensitive skin around my collar.

"And then you proceeded to _punch him in the face?"_

I sat up against a pillar on the other side of the tent. Honey leaned against it as she steadied the ice pack onto my burned fur. We watched as predators exited the tent. Most of them rubbing their sore arms after getting their shots.

Every month, on a specified date, all of the predators in Zootopia are required to go to their designated locations to get their monthly Predcheck. They would often evaluate each of us and check for signs of disease or mental instability. They would test our eyesight and hearing, and usually gave us vaccination shots for diseases we've never even heard of. It was the city's way of keeping tabs on all of its predators. The city could keep track of predator population, health patterns, collar functionality, and so on. On the first Monday of every month, the predators of the Happytown and Lowland, districts were required to meet at the city civic center in downtown Zootopia. Honey and I have always tried to avoid downtown. The only times that I've stepped foot in the central district are for Predchecks and Koslov's jobs.

Despite me being electrocuted minutes before, I was still required to be evaluated. The hedgehog went through the usual routine, shining a bright light into my eyes and having me read off of a chart from across the room. When I failed to identify a single one of the letters on the wall, the hedgehog impatiently sat me down and gave me my shot before shooing me out of the tent.

"I'm sorry Nick, but that is the most idiotic reason for getting shocked!"

She was obviously annoyed by my stupid decision. How was I supposed to know that I was talking to the owner of a small oil company? I looked down, resting my elbow on my knee and propping up my forehead with my paws. It was unlike her, Honey had usually enjoyed seeing me getting myself into trouble.

One time, I bursted through the front door of the house while she was eating on the couch. I was soaking wet and out of breath. That night, I had attempted to cheat in a game of blackjack… with very little success. I ended up being chased out by a pack of wolves who didn't find my shenanigans amusing. I climbed over fences and cut through backyards in the pouring rain, and when I eventually lost them, I walked across town back to the Grotto.

Honey laughed for nearly twenty minutes.

"Is that really what happened, Nick? What did he say to make you go all haywire?"

When we were reunited, she told me that she initially didn't see the fight occur, but did spot me being dragged into the tent by two police officers. They gave me five minutes to recover before I went into one of the stalls. When I got out, she was already waiting for me near the exit. My voice was dry and hollow.

"I don't know… Just stupid shit."

"No, you wanna know what's stupid? Punching a millionaire in the face!"

I looked up at Honey, her composure was a mix of concern and anger. She looked away and sighed. She was thinking. Probably thinking of what she could have done if she was with me. What she would have done if we weren't separated and put into different lines. Honey often enjoyed seeing myself getting into trouble, but this time, she seemed pissed.

"That ain't like you Nick. Fighting mammals over 'stupid shit.'"

"It's just..."

My voice cracked.

Thoughts of my family resurfaced. My dad typing away behind his desk, my mother brewing fresh coffee in the early morning sun. The suits we made. The suits he sold.

The suits he had given me.

I looked back toward the tent, predators trickled out from underneath the blue tarp like droplets from a leaky faucet. The sun had started to shine through the clouds and into the building. The widows flooded the lobby with refreshing sunlight. The ice on my shoulders began to cover my neck with numbness. Honey took a seat next to me. We sat there in silence, watching the mammals go by.

The city was rarely peaceful. Fights and yelling often flooded the streets with hostility and bigotry. It was almost unavoidable. The walls of the civic center protected us only somewhat.

Hatred was everywhere. It was in the streets, in the buildings, and in the hearts of all mammals, both predator and prey.

For five minutes however, there was peace. There was no yelling, no fighting, no shocking, just indifference. Predators and prey simply avoided each other in the main lobby. The chaos of the queue lines had finally subsided, and now, the lobby was only filled by the collected sounds of mammals conversing back in forth. Neither Honey or I talked, taking in the tranquil setting. The silence was instead substituted with the relaxing sounds of commerce. Occasionally, a telephone would ring, a stapler would snap, a door would close. The sounds of the busy lobby filled my eardrums with much needed comfort. Honey was sitting there, anxiously playing with the strings of her sweatpants. I could tell she was upset. Either she was mad at me, or mad at what happened. I leaned back and closed my eyes, hoping that the silence could last forever.

"You're an idiot, you know that, right?"

Honey was the first to speak. She was right. I was an idiot.

"I'm not mad at you, Nick… well I- I _kinda_ am _,_ but mostly because you do stupid shit sometimes."

I sighed. Again, she was right.

I wasn't exactly sure what had gotten to me. I don't know if it was the rabbit's attitude, I don't know if it was the fact that Honey wasn't there, but something snapped. A lever inside my brain had been pulled, a lever that was rarely touched. I was usually good at keeping my composure, but all it took were the insults of an insensitive bunny to make me pull that lever; to pull it in under a minute. It wasn't normal.

We sat there again in silence. I looked back up at the clock.

_10:15_

"Alright. Nap time over! I need a drink."

Honey jumped up and turned to face me. I was relieved that her mood had lightened up. Honey had many sides. I had seen some more than others, and she rarely showed her protective side. Now, however, she seemed to be back in her normal, peppy mood. She lended her paw and helped me up. My muscles were still sore from earlier.

"Let's go! I know of a place. You're probably needing a drink too, aren't you Mr. Wilde?"

Yet again, she was right.

* * *

The small bar was located eleven blocks north of the civic center near the Rainforest Bureau. The pub was only accessible from the back alley, and served predators only.

The place was dimly lit. Colorful neon lights bathed the single room in a spectrum of bright hues. The loud bass of the stereo could be felt in my chest. The familiar smells of cigar smoke and ash hung in the air. A small TV was mounted on the wall behind the bar. There were a couple of other predators in the cramped setting. A pair of grizzly bears sat in a booth near the entrance. They wore identical denim overalls, most likely coming from the same workplace. A serval sat alone in the corner smoking a cigarette. His pen shook as he anxiously filled out a stack of paperwork. Honey and I sat on the elevated stools next to the counter.

"IDs please."

The bartender was a young jaguar. She wore nothing but a pair of bluejeans and a sports bra. The bar clearly didn't have a dress code for their employees, but then again, the customers probably didn't care.

Honey and I got out our identification cards and the bartender nodded without looking over them. Asking customers for there ID was merely a requirement for anyone who sold alcohol, however, sellers rarely enforce the policy. I started drinking when I was 19.

"Anything to drink?"

"I'll have a Honey Melon Mojito."

"I'll just have a beer."

"Muller or Buckweiser?"

"Muller's fine."

The bartender went over to the back wall and prepared our drinks. Honey and I didn't drink often, especially in the city. Prey can have a fun time mistreating drunk predators. Finnick once got drunk downtown while celebrating on New Year's Eve. He woke up the next morning with no wallet, no clothing, and no idea how he had ended up in the sewer.

The jaguar set my drink down while Honey's cocktail was still in the shaker. The ice pack on my neck was beginning to melt. Honey swiveled her bar stool to face me.

"So what do you think he'll do?"

"Who?"

"Mr. Pattington, the one you sucker punched."

_Was that really his last name? Oh the insults I could have used on him! If only I knew..._

"Is that his name? That's a hilariously stupid last name."

"Well he and his hilariously stupid last name will probably be suing your sorry ass."

I chuckled. I was in a lot more trouble than I had originally thought. It didn't matter though, after seeing the saliva catapult off of his lips when I socked him, I would do it again if I had the chance.

"Why'd he even go up to you in the first place?"

"I don't know. Probably looking for a fight or something to entertain him."

"No, I mean like, why did he go up to _you?_ There were like twenty foxes in that line, and he chose _you._ "

I hadn't thought of the question myself. _Why me? It might have been mere luck, or…_

"I think it was because I'm wearing this suit…"

"Oh."

An awkward silence began to wedge its way between us. The music seemed to get quieter, and the TV volume wasn't loud enough to make up for the void of discomfort that was starting to grow, surrounding us. I could sense that Honey felt it too. She fumbled around with a worn-down coaster on the wooden countertop of the bar. The bartender came and sat Honey's drink down next to her. She began to play with her straw, slowly stirring her cocktail. The ice collided and crackled as the straw danced along the edges of her cup. She sighed and looked up. Staring at the TV, she began to speak, her voice dry and shaky.

"Look, I know that you don't like bringing up family stuff… And that's ok, it's just… We all have shit to go through, but we don't have to go through it alone, you know."

Honey had asked from time to time. Whether it be because of the suits I wore, or out of sheer curiosity. I had always avoided the topic and planned to keep it that way. Honey wasn't stupid though; She read the signs. Whenever my apparel was talked about, my mood would seem to subconsciously shift. Innocent discussions turned into awkward conversations. She had eventually linked the suits to my family, and whenever one of those topics was brought up, she knew better than to try to laugh it off. I've always been able to conceal my true thoughts and emotions somewhat, but Honey was practically a mind-reader. It pissed me off. It made me feel vulnerable. But then again, Honey was someone who I could trust.

Guilt was the first thing I felt. I sometimes seem to forget that I’m not the only one with a troubled past. Every predator has a story. Everyone remembers the day they got their collars, the day when they saw their parents first get shocked, when they themselves first got shocked. Everyone has lost somebody or something that had once mattered, that still matters to them. Honey had lost mammals too, and I feel selfish that I'm not able to talk about it as easily.

I thought about telling her about my past, I thought about telling everything…

And then someone in bar yelled.

"Turn it up! Turn the TV up!"

The bartender scrambled to get to the remote, and turned the volume up. The news anchor held a small stack of papers in her paws. Nothing but static came out of the old speakers. The distorted image of the fuzzy TV made it difficult to see clearly, but the scrolling words on the bottom were large and easy to read.

" _Predator Savagery. Are we at risk?"_

The bartender adjusted the antenna, temporarily losing the signal completely. The bar's three other occupants were at the counter now, all trying to see what the fuss was about. The jaguar tilted the antenna the other direction and the image of the elk came into focus. Someone turned the music off. His voice started to become clear.

_"Isolated reports are starting to come in now of predator attacks on prey here in Zootopia. Now, I have here with me Zoologist, Dr. Ryan Kurk, and Zootopia Chief of Police, Bill Wratton."_

The bull and the squirrel both nodded upon hearing their names. The squirrel sat on a small chair on the desk while the large police chief towered over him, even while sitting down.

"Now, Mr. Wratton, I would like to first ask you, when did these mailings start to occur?"

I winced at the word, 'mauling'. Predator attacks are a common occurrence, but _maulings?_

"Well, Mr. Baldwin, we got some reports earlier last week about these uh… individual ' _savage attacks.'_ I had my detectives look into it, and they found at least four of these uh… _maulings_ that you speak of. We've also been able to find five other cases where preds acted savagely, but were detained by our police officers before they could attack anyone."

"So that's _nine_ incidents of public endangerment. Mr. Kurk, what's causing these predators to attack our citizens?"

"You see Erin, predators are wired a bit differently than we are. They have the natural instinct to kill, a trait only shared by carnivorous species. Their instincts have been subdued and monitored throughout the past few centuries, but something is reverting years of evolution, and resetting predators to their natural, feral state. We have our best team of experts on the case, and we aim to identify the source of the animalistic activity to ensure the safety of our citizens."

I heard Honey make a noise. She sat there with her mouth gaped, her eyes were glued to the screen.

"Very well put, Mr. Kurk. Now Chief Officer, what would you advise prey to do until we can find the cause of these _brutal_ attacks?"

"Well… I would advise prey to keep an eye out for predators. The few cases we've been looking into suggest that there might be more in the future. How much is not for certain, but… Uh…. for now, we can only wait and see if anything comes up."

"Alright, now. We have been receiving disturbing images from these attacks and Mr. Kurk, what could you tell us…"

The screen faded from the mammals and the first photo displayed on the screen. For a few long seconds, the image burned its way into my eyes. I heard one of the bears from behind curse under his breath. The bartender yelped and looked away immediately, shielding her eyes from the light of the TV screen. Disturbing wasn't the right word, the image was traumatizing.

A dismembered sheep laid on the ground in a thick puddle of blood. She seemed to be somewhat young, but it was hard to tell. The body was barely recognizable. Her wool was soaked in crimson red. Claw marks dug into her exposed skin. Her neck was completely obliterated, and her head was practically separated from her mauled body.

Mauled. She was _mauled._ I looked away toward Honey. Her face was stricken with terror and anger. The light coming from the TV screen faded to black momentarily before shining red hues onto the walls of the pub. The second photo was shown.

_"Fucking… Oh my…"_

The serval was nearly hyperventilating now. Honey had to cover her eyes this time. The second photo was worse than the first. One of the grizzly bears shouted.

_"Turn that shit off!"_

I continued to look at Honey. I tried my best not to turn back toward the screen. The images of the sheep flashed in my head. The jaguar made another shriek and fumbled for the remote.

“ _OH MY GOD—”_

The light from the screen had vanished, the fuzzy voices had been silenced. The room was completely quiet. Honey still had her eyes covered. The door slammed open as the serval quickly left the bar, leaving his paperwork behind. The five of us sat in a thick silence, struggling to figure out what to do next.


	6. Savage

 

* * *

"Yo you gotta stop watching that shit man."

Finnick slammed the hood of the car down. The smells of gasoline penetrated my nose. The hot humidity of the rainforest could be felt inside the vehicle. It was only March, but it was already scorching hot.

"I'm telling ya, all that wack shit is bad for your health."

He walked around the side of the car and hopped into the driver's seat. His voice became louder as he approached. The door slammed shut behind him, trapping the sounds inside the vehicle.

"All that bullshit propaganda. I swear the media these days."

He scoffed as he started the old truck. The aging engine coughed and sputtered. Predators rarely owned cars, much less knew how to drive them. We usually took the subways or walked. Neither Honey nor I could drive.

"Where we going?"

I leaned over to grab the crumbled paper from my back pocket. Koslov had paged me Tuesday night about today's job. Finnick and I were to deliver a shipment of ammunition to the Canal Districts. I gladly accepted the offer. I needed to get my mind off of what was happening throughout the city. The unwanted images of that sheep still lingered in my thoughts.

"229 Tujunga Way."

The car jolted forward as Finnick stepped on the gas pedal. I bounced around in my seat, grabbing the ceiling to stop myself from smashing my head against the glovebox.

“ _Fuck dude—_ don't kill us!”

We pulled out of the warehouse and onto the gravel road. Finnick chuckled.

“ _What— come on… I'm a pro at this!”_

“Yah… Just like you're a pro at reaching the top shelf—”

The car braked suddenly. I flung my arms out, but it was too late. My body smacked into the console. Finnick’s signature laugh could be heard next to me.

“ _HEHEHE… Oh— you're too easy to mess with, you know that?”_

“Ughhh…”

I sat back, crossing my arms and glancing out the window. The car radio hummed with static. Droplets of synthetic rain water began to splatter on the windshield. The sun's rays shone through a break in the clouds. The Jungle Bureau was drenched in the thickness of the late afternoon air, intensifying the heat with waves of humidity. Finnick rolled down the windows to combat the uncomfortable dampness. From what I could tell, the truck's air conditioning had broken long ago.

"Nick. Wipers."

_"What?"_

"The lever. Next to the glove box."

I looked forward. A rather large lever stuck out from the dashboard. I pulled it down and the windshield wipers swiped the water off of the glass. I sighed, slowly returning my gaze to the jungle outside.

The thick canapé of the jungle towered over the small pickup truck. Sunlight bounced off of the lush, green foliage. The sky was mostly cloudy, but the sun managed to occasionally poke its way through holes and gaps. I felt the breeze of the rushing wind cool me off. I leaned my head against the side of the open window and closed my eyes.

_"Nick! —Come on, I can barely see!"_

My head darted back toward the windshield. The wipers had stopped moving and the glass was covered in drops of water.

"What? I— I pulled the lever!"

"Well you need to keep pulling it, smart ass."

…

…

…

_"What?"_

I pushed the lever back up, and the windshield wipers swiped across the glass and rested in their original position. I pulled it back down, and they again flipped back across the windshield. They weren't automatic.

"Oh you gotta be fuckig kidding me."

Finnick couldn't help but snicker. Most cars had automatic wipers, but not this one. Finnick's truck was a dinosaur.

“ _The fuck did you get this car anyway? —The dump?”_

“Nah… I stole it.”

My eyes shot open. I looked over to Finnick, my paw still moving the wipers.

“ _Are you… Are you fucking kidding me?”_

“What?”

I scoffed.

“ _Out of all of the cars in the city, you pick this one to steal? —This one!?”_

“What? —It’s a nice car!”

“— _It's a goddamn dumpster on wheels!”_

“Oh shut up…”

I smirked and looked back ahead. The vehicle continued to cough and sputter. The rust bucket was on its last miles.

“Besides… If the fuzz catch me in a nice car, they gonna get suspicious.”

“Yah, okay…”

I sat there flipping the lever up and down as we sped down the road. The sun was smothered out by a large raincloud. The rain seemed to get only heavier, making my job all the more annoying.

The radio still hummed with static. I used my free paw to turn the dial, trying to find a station.

"Yah, good luck with that, Wilde."

I ignored his sass and continued to twist the knob. The pitch of the humming changed, and what sounded like a voice started to crackle through the stereo.

"Twenty fou— … past couple of…. Killed or injur—... President is calling for a—..."

Finnick swatted at my paw and turned the knob all the way down. The radio returned to a fuzzy murmur. The white noise was muffled by the drumroll of raindrops striking against the metal roof. I was conflicted. I hated watching the news, but lately, I've been finding myself flipping through the channels, trying to figure out if the number had risen; It did every time. As of Thursday, 59 predators had turned savage, and at least 18 were killed in attacks. I continued to pull the lever up and down.

I looked back out the window. The ginormous trees of the Jungle Bureau towered over us like skyscrapers. We traveled along a skinny road that snaked in between the large trunks. Tunnels dug their way into cliff sides and bridges spanned over canyons. We passed by several small settlements built into trees. We sped through the open roadway; it was less busy than normal. It was nearly the morning rush hour, yet the highways of Zootopia were free of congestion. Finnick started to reach into his pocket and motioned toward me.

"Get your card out."

We approached the large suspension bridge. Checkpoints were always set up along district borders. Predators were required to stop by the gate and show their ID's and registration forms. Like I said, Predators rarely owned cars, and auto theft was a common occurrence.

"Registration's in the glovebox."

I continued to flip the lever up and down as I reached into the compartment. The glove box was filled with ketchup packets and used napkins. I dug for the wrinkled papers that were stuffed into the back. I could see the railing of the bridge out of the corner of my eye. I felt the car lurch as Finnick slammed on the brakes.

_"The fuck is this..?"_

I looked up. The checkpoint was littered with armed guards and police officers. It was the National Guard. Each of them held high caliber machine guns. The building seemed to have been transformed into some kind of army base. A small line of cars awaited their turn to pass, each of them being searched through by armed officials. Checkpoints were usually guarded by officers, but this was new. Traveling into different districts and bureaus had always been a simple process. As long as we had our IDs and registrations with us, predators could easily get by. The officer would usually ask a few questions, like where we were going or what we were doing. When on a job, lies would usually be told and the officer wouldn't question us further. The guards never quite cared, but now, everything we were doing had suddenly become their top priority.

Finnick began to back up.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting us the hell out of here."

I almost forgot that we had a large shipment of ammunition in the enclosed tail bed of the truck. Finnick looked out through his open window as he backed out of the road. We were only a few car-lengths from the edge of the bridge. I closed the glovebox and smoothened the papers out on my knee. The rainfall had decreased significantly, allowing me to take longer breaks between lever pulls. Finnick turned the car to the left as we pulled onto the road that snaked alongside the river. We needed a plan. I turned toward Finnick.

"Well… What now?"

He wore his usual, angered face. It was always difficult to identify his mood based on his facial expressions. He had the same face for almost every emotion he felt. Finnick was a hard book to read.

"I'll think of something."

We continued down the road. The rain had stopped completely. The sun once again shone its bright rays through the thick tree line. The pavement was glazed with the thin layer of fresh rainwater. The thick humidity filled the air with steamy moisture. We approached a small town built into the cliff side overlooking the river.

"Nick, how much money do you have?"

I reached down for my wallet. I knew I didn't have that much on me. Working for the Koroli involves getting into sketchy situations, and I've been mugged more than enough times to realize that carrying a lot isn't the best idea. I opened my wallet; A ten, a five, and three ones.

"$18."

"Ughh."

The car slowed down as we began to stop at a stoplight. Something was off. The town was ghostly quiet. Shops and restaurants lined the vacant streets. Makeshift signs were posted along doorframes and windowsills.

_NO PREDS_.

The whole place was on edge. The few prey that were outside anxiously hurried down the sidewalks. Shopkeepers tended to their stores, keeping an extensive eye out on shoppers. The whole town seemed to run at an awkward pace. The engine of the old truck sputtered loudly, scaring pedestrians crossing the street. Finnick chuckled at the peculiar sight.

"Over 800,000 predators in this city… a couple go crazy, everyone loses their shit."

I thought about the savage attacks. He was right. Out of the sheer amount of predators in Zootopia, not that many had actually become feral. However, word spreads quickly, and the media is quick. News channels raced one another to be the first to report on a new attack. Images and videos are taken by civilians and appear on TV's almost instantly. Smaller, less significant news stories are completely ignored. Newspapers, magazines, TV commercials; every type of media outlet has been overflowing with new developments of the attacks. Nearly 60 predators have turned savage, but because of the media, that number felt much higher.

We crept along the empty street. We needed someway to get to the Canal District. Finnick pulled over next to a small fruit market. The coughing and rattling was cut-off as he shut off the engine.

We sat there in silence. Large drops of water splattered against the windshield. Raindrops dripped off of leaves and branches due to the recent rainfall. I glanced over toward the empty market. Fruits and vegetables of all shapes and sizes were piled into wooden crates. A cougar sat at the front desk smoking a cigar. He was angrily typing with an old typewriter, most likely aggravated by the sudden lack of business. The events of the past week had driven customers out of predator-owned business. Koslov was ranting about it when I had stopped by this morning. Koslov's Palace had seen a significant drop in revenue after the attacks started. The wails of a police siren grew louder as a cop car flew by us. The vehicle sped over the hill, it's sirens now fading.

"Eighteen bucks, huh?"

I turned back toward Finnick. He was observing the market. His eyes darted from stand to stand, looking at each individual selection of produce.

"Let's see what that can get us…"

Finnick opened the door and hopped out. I grabbed my wallet and followed suit, climbing out of the passenger seat. The heat beat down on me the instant I got out of the truck. The humidity only amplified the uncomfortable temperature. Stands of fruit and vegetables were cooled down by large industrial-sized fans. Bamboo huts protected from the fruit from the sun's rays. Finnick was already at the front desk.

"Yo— I need a truck-load of the cheapest stuff you got."

The cougar looked up and smirked. Finnick's request was definitely an odd one. He observed the two of us; a fennec fox in a stained T-shirt and a red fox in a suit. The cougar crossed his arms.

"Am I allowed to ask why?"

Finnick snarled back.

"I don't think it's your business."

The cougar only grinned again. He has probably had a slow day, and our sudden request appeared to amuse him. He looked back down and continued typing.

"Fuck it— The city's going to shit anyways… Potatoes are 50¢ a pound… Knock yourselves out."

I put down the money I had, and we walked toward the potato stand. There was a large bin full of them near the back. We began to weigh the potatoes. After realizing how long it would take to weigh each and every vegetable, we decided that four of them were equivalent to one pound. We ended up buying almost all of the cougar's inventory. We carried the bags of vegetables back and made a pile by the truck. 144 potatoes in all.

"Alright."

Finnick opened the trunk and hopped back down. The ammo was concealed by a thick blue tarp.

"Let's just… _I don't know—_ throw them in."

“ _Throw them in?_ —Finnick, are you sure about that?”

“What?”

I smirked, glancing up towards the open tailgate.

“I mean… Those potatoes are pretty big… I don't know if you'll be able to— _OUFFH”_

I lurched back as my stomach was struck by a flying vegetable. I watched the potato fall and bounce onto the ground. My abdomen stung with a dulled pain. I rubbed the area with both of my paws.

“ _Okay… I stand corrected.”_

“Hehe. Fuck you.”

I took a deep breath, and after taking a few moments to recover, the two of us got to work.

We opened the bags and began tossing the potatoes into the back of the truck. I never imagined that I would be doing this when Koslov paged me Tuesday night, but jobs almost never go as planned anyways. The truck began to fill up with produce. Finnick would periodically climb up and inspect our progress. The large pile of potatoes slowly shrunk. I wasn't quite sure of what we were going to do with them after the job.

We threw the last of the vegetables into the truck. The pile created a layer of potatoes that buried the blue tarp below.

Satisfied, we got back into the truck and headed toward the bridge.

It was nearly noon, and the sun had climbed to its peak. The humidity had subsided only somewhat. Finnick rolled up the windows, trapping the moisture inside with us. Darker shades of grey began to present themselves as the clouds began to cover the sky.

The checkpoint was busier this time. Cars of different sizes were parked alongside the other end of the bridge. We slowly approached the line to the right. I again got my ID out and unfolded the registration. Finnick turned off the engine. The sky was darkened by the cloud cover, but not a drop fell from the sky. The weather in the Rainforest Bureau was unpredictable. Synthetic rainwater would spray out of tree tops at random. Outsiders despised the district's weather patterns, but the locals have embraced it. It was just like home to them.

A goat made his way toward the truck. He wore a navy blue jumpsuit equipped with an array of different tools and weapons. An assault rifle was strapped around his shoulders and hung from his back. He had heavy shades on and was chewing something. When he got to the car, Finnick unrolled the window.

"ID's and registration."

I handed Finnick my ID and the registration forms. The officer snatched it from his paws. His police radio started to go off. New reports of attacks were beginning to rise. He glanced at the cards and then back at us.

"Any reason why you're traveling today?"

Finnick responded with an innocent, country accent.

"We're just deliverin' some 'taters out to our friends at the docks."

I wasn't quite sure why Finnick found it necessary to speak with an accent. For certain jobs it was required to look and act a certain part, even if that involves using a fake accent. Finnick, however, was terrible at impressions…

Luckily, the officer didn't seem to care.

"Anything in the vehicle I should know about?"

"No, sir."

"...Any drugs? Any weapons?"

"No, sir."

"Are you lying to me?"

"No— no, sir."

The goat's radio was blowing up with calls and reports of savage animals. Another police officer passed by the passenger side of the car. The yak wore a similar uniform, but was only equipped with a pistol. He peered through the windows of the back seat and walked around to the back of the truck. The goat smiled, he seemed to enjoy his job interrogating preds.

"You know, we saw you guys turn around earlier before crossing the bridge. Could you uh… maybe tell me what that was all about?"

The stench. The awful, familiar stench. I haven't smelled it until just now. It was the goat. He had chewing tobacco in his mouth. Finnick raised his arm and pointed back at me with his thumb.

"Bucko here forgot his ID card."

The officer glanced past him and at me. He wore glasses, but his eyes still bore their ways into mine. The air had thickened, and my heart rate was increasing. The smell of chewing tobacco seemed to fill up my nostrils. It was difficult to breathe. The car felt like it was on fire. The humidity only worsened the discomfort. I began to sweat; I felt increasingly anxious. The silence was broken by sounds of the yak opening the tailgate.

"Nothing but potatoes, sir."

Without breaking eye contact with me, the goat smirked. The radio on his shoulder continued to buzz with activity. He tossed the registration forms and our ID cards back through the window.

"How about we let our little potato farmers go on their merry way."

The goat signaled for the gate to open. The large, orange bar raised up, giving us clearance to drive through. Finnick smiled and nodded to the goat awkwardly before starting the engine and driving away.

* * *

The docks were huge. Large cargo ships were parked in different alcoves. Bamboo structures were built adjacent to the water with bridges protruding onto the ship's decks.

Workers hurriedly moved and stacked shipping containers onto the boats with large cranes. The mammals were working at an unusually fast pace. It seemed that every prey-citizen in Zootopia was paranoid about the savage attacks. I looked at the directions again and flipped the paper over. The dock number and a password were scribbled in the back.

"Dock 19."

Finnick nodded and began to drive along the docks. Large, numbered signs were displayed at the entrance of each pier. The numbers began to go up as we passed by the bustling worksites. Large trucks towed their way down the industrial-sized road. Their tires were bigger than the size of our car.

As we traveled farther north, the commotion seemed to thin out. By the time we got to dock 15, the busyness had completely stopped. Only a few workers were stationed, mopping the floors of the bamboo structures.

We slowed down as we got to dock 19. A small cargo ship sat idly in the water. Predators took crates and boxes from unmarked trucks and loaded them onto the main deck. Wooden planks served as bridges to get onto the boat. The discrete setup was guarded by a group of black bears at the front entrance. A sophisticated set up was difficult to pull off, but with the city as it is, getting away with crime appeared to be a bit easier. The gang seemed to be taking advantage of the sudden opportunity.

We pulled into the main entry gate. A black bear walked toward the driver side window. I gave Finnick the directions with the code on it. He unrolled the window.

"You got a password?"

The bear's voice was fairly high pitched for a mammal of his size. Finnick glanced down and read off the paper.

"Amor de… sangre."

The bear grudged at Finnick's poor pronunciation. He looked back at the ship toward a bobcat who was arguing with a coyote. The bobcat smoked a cigarette and waved a clipboard around, clearly aggravated by the canine. He wore a thick, golden necklace and had a revolver holstered to his belt.

"¡Tomás, El Koroli están aquí con tu envío!"

The bobcat looked up and shoved the clipboard into the coyote's chest. He motioned for us to drive forward. The car jolted forward as Finnick put it in drive.

The bobcat gave a few final orders to the angry coyote before strutting toward the car.

The brakes squeaked loudly as Finnick parked in the middle of the lot.

"You guys are over 45 minutes late!"

The bobcat spoke with a broken accent. He put one of his paws to his hips and smoked with his other, eying us down.

"Checkpoints are stacked now. Them pigs are everywhere, man."

Finnick spoke with his deep, natural voice. The bobcat simply stared us down. After taking another smoke, he sighed and threw the cigarette down.

"Fuck it! —Better late than never!"

He looked down as he signaled for his colleagues to start unloading the car. The bobcat leaned up against Finnick's open window. His breath smelt of salt and smoke.

"Look, I am very, _very_ stressed out. These fucking swines are making things 20x harder for all of us."

The bobcat wiped his eyes with his paw and spat on the ground in disgust. Koslov has been a mess since last weekend. I could tell that the sudden reinforcements of the National Guard were affecting all of the gang leaders in the area. The excessive presence of police officers made it nearly impossible to carry out jobs normally. I heard the back of the truck open up. The coyotes were confused by what they saw.

"Qué chingados?"

The bobcat glanced back at them. Finnick was quick to respond.

"Ammo's underneath the potatoes."

The bobcat looked back toward Finnick, slightly confused about the bed full of potatoes behind us. However, he quickly dismissed it and looked back up at the coyotes.

"Por debajo de… las papas."

The two of them began to dig through the potatoes. I heard a yell from the boat. I looked forward toward the ship. Predators were finishing up with the boxes in the trucks. Most of them were in a group next to the wooden planks. They chatted amongst themselves in a circle, smoking cigars and passing around a bottle of liquor. I heard another group of police cars speed by across the river. A news helicopter pursued them. The city was starting to buzz with an uncomfortably high amount of police activity.

The coyotes pulled back the tarp and lifted out the boxes of ammunition. Satisfied with the delivery, the bobcat smirked and looked back down into the truck.

"I thank you guys for your services. Tell my friend Koslov that—"

A loud scream came from the group of predators near the ship. We all looked back toward the commotion. The circle of mammals had been broken up as they all began to stumble back in shock. I couldn't see what they were yelling about.

"¡Alguien lo detenga!"

"¡Obtené la pistola!"

"Holy shit!"

The crowd dispersed, and I could see him. One of the coyotes was on all-fours. He stood their growling and aggressively striking at other workers. Foam streamed from the predator’s mouth, and his eyes were bloodshot. He had turned savage. Finnick sat there with his mouth gaped. I could hear the bobcat swearing foreign cuss words under his breath. The coyotes next to us stood there dumbfounded, dropping the boxes of ammunition onto the ground.

One of the workers threw the empty bottle of liquor at the feral coyote. The bottle shattered as it connected with the coyote's neck. The wild animal turned back and locked on to the one who threw it. The worker began to stumble backwards as the coyote began to dart towards him, towards us. The yelling and screaming only got louder.

"¡CORRA, JORGÉ! CORRA!"

The mountain lion whipped his body around and dug his feet into the gravel. They were racing straight toward us. I could see the mountain lion's face; he was utterly horrified. He sprinted as fast as he could, but the feral beast was faster. The coyote lunged forward, digging his claws into the mountain lion's shoulders. They both slammed down onto the gravel. The mountain lion screamed in horror as the coyote sank its teeth into his neck.

_***BANG** _

The coyote's body slumped over as gravity began to drag it down. The panicked mountain lion shoved the body off of his back and began to shuffle away. Blood was oozing out of his neck. His clothes were torn at the deep lacerations on each shoulder. His face was badly scratched after face-planting into the gravel. He crawled away from the animal and collapsed, gasping for air.

The terrorized gang members slowly began to walk toward the body. It was about twenty feet away from the truck.

I looked to the left. The bobcat was still pointing the gun at the unresponsive body. He was just as shocked as everyone else. Finnick sat there with both paws on the wheel, completely at a loss for words. I didn't realize how much I was shaking until I began to rub my eyes. Half of the predators went to aid the horrified mountain lion, the other half just stood there, looking down at the coyote's immobile corpse.

_"Don't get too close to it."_

The bobcat began to put away his pistol. His voice was strained and shaky.

"You might… catch whatever he had."

The workers only nodded, creating a semicircle around the dead animal.

I don't think that it was the sight of the feral coyote that got to me. It wasn't the sight of the mountain lion's horrified face or his agonizing screams that scared me. No, what truly horrified me was the fact that almost anyone could become feral at anytime. That coyote could have been Finnick, It could have been Honey, it could have been me.

And eventually, it probably will.

We sat in silence. Without a word, Finnick backed out of the gravel lot and turned back onto the road. The crowd of predators stood around the gruesome scene. Some of them began to run for help. We passed by the busier docks. Workers were hurriedly getting into cars and were starting to make their way home. They had been let off early.

The situation, the atmosphere of the city; I've felt it before. Hurricanes have passed by Zootopia only three times in the past decade. Last fall, one was expected to hit a few days before Thanksgiving. The week leading up to the storm's landfall was nerve racking. That eerie, dreadful feeling, that impending sense of doom. Everyone knew that something was coming. We didn't know how bad it would be, but it was something that all of us feared greatly.

That feeling, that sense of dread; it was here now.

The ride home was silent. The sky was a shade of pale grey. Finnick sat there looking straight ahead, not saying a word. Neither of us dared to turn on the radio.

But we didn't need to.

Police sirens rang out through the streets. Cars sped down motorways as mammals tried to get home as soon as possible. Helicopters circled the skies like scavenging birds. Distant gunshots echoed throughout the jungle. Part of me wanted to turn on the radio. Part of me wanted to see what the number had risen to, but I held back.

I wasn't sure if I even wanted to know.

The checkpoints we passed let us through without searching, without interrogating. The towns we passed were completely vacant. Shops were closed, and store windows were boarded up. The city was on lockdown. The city was falling apart.

Finnick dropped me off at the Happytown district border. The officers let me in without having me show them my ID. It was roughly a four mile walk to my house.

The town was a scene of complete and utter chaos.

Helicopters flew above to film the mayhem in the streets below. Predators rioted and protested in the district's main avenue. If predators weren't fighting with each other, then they were trying to break up the altercations that nearly filled up the streets. Families watched from closed windows at the chaotic mess on the street. Roadways were blocked by large groups of rioters. A nearby convenient store had its display windows shattered. Predators ran out with anything they could find, TVs, toilet paper, shoes that didn't fit; anything. The streets were littered with paper and random trash. Mammals seemed to riot for the pure purpose of rioting. The police did not make any attempt at stopping the violence.

_Things are getting worse._

The otter's voice ran throughout my head. The sirens and the yelling had been drowned out. It was just his voice. His face. His words.

_Things are getting worse… Much worse._

He was right. He was completely right. I never imagined that it would come to this. Predators were rioting out of fear; the fear of what would become of us.

The fear of going savage.

I reached the Grotto. The once peaceful sanctuary was now filled with panicked predators storing away their stolen goods. Still, compared to the rest of Happytown, the Grotto was rather calm. I walked through the overgrown streets. The whole place seemed different. The color of the graffiti was desaturated by the pale light of the grey sky. It had gotten cold now, and the clouds began to fill up the heavens with darkness.

I walked through the front door. Honey didn't greet me. She was focussed purely on the TV. The videos, the images, the reports; all of it was overwhelming.

It made sense. My questions were answered. The reasons for the panic, the reasons for the riots. It was the media, the news channels. It was what they were showing; it was what they were telling us. I sat down next to her on the couch. My biggest fears had been realized.

The number had risen, much higher than I would have ever thought.


	7. Bill 10-67B

**THE ZOOTOPIAN SAFETY APPEAL**

_**Bill 10-67B** _

_March 13th, 764 P.A._

Synopsis

_The Zootopian Safety Appeal_ will enforce new laws and regulations to ensure the safety of Zootopian residents. Due to the most recent spike in predatory attacks, the Supreme Seven and the President have found it necessary to take action. These laws are mandatory yet subject to change. Starting on Monday, March 14th, these new laws will take effect in all four bureaus of Zootopia.

* * *

**ARTICLE ONE - Predatory Confinement Zones**

_Article One_ will enforce the quarantining of Predators throughout different districts in Zootopia. In order to ensure the safety of all Zootopian citizens, Prey must be separated from potentially dangerous Predators who pose a threat to the public's well being.

Predators who do not currently live in Confinement Zones will have 24 hours to move out of their current residence. Prey who currently live in quarantine zones will be asked to evacuate as soon as possible. The National Guard will direct predators to the nearest Confinement Zone.

There will be 37 Confinement Zones to accommodate for the 807,025 Predators that currently live within city limits.

**Savannah Bureau** **(15)**

Dantville

Dixon Park

East Shrewlitt

Edgewater City

Grymes Hill

Gull Lake

Hamford Hill

Happytown

Kilmore Street

Little Venehty

Metrotown

Newport District

Pigney City

Woodmere

West Lockhart

**Rainforest Bureau** **(7)**

Babama Island

Belmarsh

Jabonga

Kango City

Kapok Island

Palma Bluffs

San Bennito

**Tundra Bureau** **(10)**

The Village of Alpine

Berkachet City

Davik Island

Naughtweller

Oslob

Osnaburgh

Ravensbrok

Triblanka

Westbork

Woodberry

**Sahara Bureau** **(5)**

Luxor District

Sibah District

Tarzibu

Vorinoy Canyon

Yas Island

Predatory Confinement Zones will be heavily guarded by armed officials and the National Guard. Predators that leave Confinement Zones without authorized permission will be punished to the full extent of the law.

* * *

**ARTICLE TWO - Predatory Classes**

Under _Article Two,_ predators will be divided up into three individual classes. Mammals will be separated based on:

**1.** Physical characteristics and natural prey.

**2.** Crime statistics according to the most recent ZVS. _(Zootopia Victimization Survey)_

Species are organized by Family and Genus. If a specific species is not listed, then refer to its most related genus. _Example: Bengal Tiger = Tiger (Panthera Tigris)_

If an mammal does not have a specified genus next to or above its name, than either **1.** An mammal of the same genus is put into a separate division. **Or 2.** The specific mammal does not have enough related species to be classified according to genus.

_ **Division 1** _

 

**Of the Felidae Family:**

_Panthera Genus_

\- Jaguar (P. Onca)

\- Leopard (P. Pardus)

\- Snow Leopard (P. Uncia)

\- Lion (P. Leo)

\- Tiger (P. Tigris)

_Felidae Genus_

\- Cheetah (F. Acinonyx)

\- Cougar (F. Puma)

**Of the Ursidae Family:**

_Ursus Genus_

\- American Black Bear (U. Americanus)

\- Brown Bear (U. Arctos)

\- Polar Bear (U. Maritimus)

\- Asian Black Bear (U. Thibetanus)

**Of the Canidae Family:**

_Canis Genus_

\- Grey Wolf (C. Lupus)

\- Red Wolf

\- African Golden Wolf

\- Ethiopian Wolf

_Vulpes & Urocyon Genera_

\- Foxes of all kinds

**Of the Mustelidae Family:**

\- Wolverine

\- Weasel

**Of the Hyaenidae Family:**

\- Hyena

**Of the Procyonidae Family:**

\- Raccoon (Procyonina Subtribe)

_ **Division 2** _

**Of the Felidae Family:**

\- Bobcat (Lynx)

**Of the Canidae Family:**

_Canis Genus_

\- Dhole

\- Golden Jackal

\- Side-Striped Jackal

\- Black-Backed Jackal

_Unspecified dogs and foxes whose Genera include:_

(Lycaon, Atelocynus, Cerdocyon, Lycalopex, Chrysocyon, Speothos, Otocyon, and Nyctereutes)

**Of the Mustelidae Family:**

\- Badger (Melinae, Mellivorinae, and Taxideinae Subfamilies)

\- Ferret / Polecat

**Of the Herpistidae Family:**

\- Mongoose (Herpestes)

**The Entire Mephitidae Family**

(Skunks and Stink Badgers)

_ **Division 3** _

**Of the Felidae Family:**

\- Native Jungle Cats

_Genera include:_

(Leptailurus, Caracal, Catopuma, Felis, Pardofelis, Prionailurus, Leopardus, Profelis)

**Of the Mustelidae Family:**

_The following include all unspecified subspecies._

\- Mink

\- Otter

\- Marten

**Of the Hyaenidae Family:**

\- Aardwolf

**The Entire Viverridae Family**

(Civets and Genets)

**The entire Procyonidae Family excluding the Procyonina Subtribe.**

(Ringtails and Olingos)

* * *

**ARTICLE THREE - Collar Enforcement**

Section 1

Under _Article Three_ , Predators will be required to wear locked collars at all times. Collars may only be removed by armed officials under certain circumstances. These new, revolutionized collars will have advanced tracking systems, voice monitorization, and a new waterproof membrane. Locked collars will be distributed within the days following Bill 10-67B's approval.

Section 2

_Article 3_ also permits the distribution of shock-remotes to the public. Zootopians will be allowed to own remote devices in order to protect themselves from possible predatory attacks. Citizens will be able to obtain shock-remotes at post offices, civic centers, and city hall. Distribution may also be allowed outside of city limits.

* * *

**ARTICLE FOUR - Additional Regulations**

Section 1

_Article Four_ permits the use of additional enforcement to specific Confinement Zones if needed. The Head Confinement Officer will hold power over a zone, and will hold the power to direct on-duty officers and assign them to specific tasks.

The HCO will have power to control:

\- Laws subject to all Zone inhabitants

\- Laws subject to certain division members

\- Curfews

\- Distribution of Food Stamps

\- Predchecks

In the event that a crime that is committed against an officer or guard, the Head Confinement Officer will have the authority to **1.** Punish the convict as needed, or **2.** Send the convict to the jurisdiction of city authorities for prosecution.

Section 2

Predators will be allowed to barter and own businesses within Zone borders under the following conditions:

\- The Business is certified by the HCO or someone with the granted authority to do so.

\- Periodical inspections are held by the HCO or by authorized officials.

\- All imports and exports will be meticulously searched through and verified by authorized officials.

Section 3

**General guidelines of rules and regulations include:**

\- Predators are not permitted to leave Confinement Zones unless given permission by the HCO.

\- Predators are not permitted to own firearms of any class. All weapons will be confiscated within Zone boundaries.

\- Predators will be required to wear locked-collars at all times unless under the supervision of armed officers or certified doctors.

\- Predators will be required to obey all laws set by the Head Confinement Officer of the Confinement Zone. (Whether it be specifically made for the predator's division, or for all inhabitants of the Zone.)

\- Predators will be required to follow any additional laws that are made in the future by the Supreme Seven or by the President.

* * *

_This law has been passed and approved by:_

_**The Unity of the Supreme Seven** _

X

x

X

x

x

X

X

_**The Reverend President** _

_Dennis J. Bellwether_


	8. Tyler Gunsdon

 

* * *

_Thursday, March 10th. 11:14 PM_

They ran and replayed in a constant and continuous loop. The images and videos dug their way into my head and burned themselves onto the inside of skull. I was paralyzed, completely unable to move. Fear was something that mammals felt everyday. I had gotten into grim situations in the past, but this was different. This was completely different. Whatever was causing the predators to go savage, however it was spreading, it was utterly unpredictable. It was uncontrollable. The number continued to rise.

4,928 predators had gone savage within the past twelve hours.

Honey had gotten up and undrapped the curtain beneath the sink. Not a single word was spoken since I had gotten home. I looked outside, the streets had calmed down. The sun seemed to change the atmosphere completely. In the daylight, there was panic; there were riots and protests.

But in the dark, there was only dread.

My body twitched as the trapdoor slammed shut. Honey had gotten into her moods less often, and I had a feeling that she wasn't trying to unveil any conspiracies tonight.

My attention was again sucked in by the small television set that sat across the room. The monotone voices of the news anchors buzzed through the weak speakers. The same scenes replayed over and over again. The main boulevards of Downtown Zootopia were flooded with protesters, all of which were prey. Signs and banners stuck out like sail boats bobbing above the mass sea of chaos. What they wanted was clear to see. The chants, the signs, everything screamed out the same daunting message.

They wanted predators out of Zootopia.

Prey and predators shared very few similarities. An invisible barrier had kept the two sides from being equal for centuries. The barrier was the reason why predators have to wear shock collars. The barrier was the reason why prey treated predators with such hatred. The barrier was the reason for the violence and the vulgarity. The barrier was the reason why the world is the way it is.

But that barrier, on rare occasions, also showed one of the few similarities between us natural enemies. The barrier was not an unwritten rule. It was not an interpreted law or executive order. It was an emotion, a natural reaction that had been embedded into our rigid society. It was an emotion that was driven into our heads by television sets. It was an emotion that we felt everyday.

That emotion is fear, and tonight, everyone felt it, both predator and prey.

I leaned my head back and sighed. I let myself fully sink into the old couch. The individual sounds of the TV merged into one, continuous blob of white noise. Finnick was right, I watched the news too often.

An exaggerated squeak came from beneath the sink. I glanced over, trying to avert my attention away from the TV. A small, black box slid out from behind the curtain. Soon after, Honey's upper half emerged. I watched as she silently climbed out of the hole and shut the door. She stood up with the briefcase in her paws and walked toward the kitchen table behind the couch. Honey opened the box after setting it on the table. It was the box that she took with her to the firing range behind Finnick's bar. It was her gun.

She took out the pistol, and after loading it, placed it back down on the table. She simply stood there looking at it. I sat up a bit, looking over from behind the back of the couch. I felt the air around us become tense. I needed to speak.

"Hey… Honey?"

My voice was dry. I hadn't spoken since I was out with Finnick. It was the first words that I had spoken to her today. She continued to stare down at the table.

"Yah Nick?"

"What's… uh… with the gun?"

She looked back at me. She could sense my concern. Her strange demeanor had thrown me off guard.

Her eyes returned back to the pistol on the table. She was deep in thought. Wiping her paws against her face, she sighed heavily. Her posture became relaxed yet uneasy. She was trying to act like her normal, peppy self.

"Nick, I am losing my goddamn mind."

She began to chuckle. A forced smile revealed itself behind her cupped paws. The awkwardness was drowned out by Honey's chuckling, but it still lingered.

"God, what a day, huh?"

Her voice was strained and exhausted. Honey made her way back to the couch. I think both of us were losing it; today had been an especially long day.

She vaulted over the back end of the couch and crash-landed next to me. She swiftly scooped up the remote off of the coffee table and turned the TV off. Leaning back, she mimicked my position and sunk into the couch, staring up to the ceiling.

"What a day…"

We sat there looking up at the popcorn ceiling. My eyes shifted from one clump of dots to another, trying to make out any recognizable shapes. Outside, we had the clouds. Inside, we had the ceiling. I needed to distract myself.

Distant gunshots echoed from outside. Even though the world was going to shit, Honey and I just sat on the couch, like we always did. I could tell that she was trying to brighten up the mood a little. We both had the tendency to crack jokes during tense moments like these. If the world was getting sucked into a black hole, her last words would be some kind of joking insult, and mine would probably be some kind of horrible comeback. That was how it always seemed, but now, things were different.

I looked behind us. The loaded gun was still on the table.

"—No but seriously, what's with the gun?"

"It's so I can shoot your crazy-ass when you go all loco."

"Wow, that's fucked up…"

"Oh come on, Nick… The whole damn world’s fucked up…”

We sat there, still staring up. I couldn't find any shapes in the popcorn ceiling, so I stopped trying. The idea of one of us going feral horrified me. She said it jokingly, but it was true. If one of us tried to attack the other…

"Look, if I go crazy…"

Her voice trailed off. I watched as reality crashed down on her like an avalanche. Honey's thoughts were parallel to mine. Her smile dropped, and she looked down to the floor. Not even her optimistic attitude could shake away the awful truth.

"...just— _you know_ …"

Her voice was soft and shaky. She couldn't find the bright side of the situation, so she stopped trying. The silence became painfully unsettling. I wanted to drown it out by turning on the TV, but that would make things worse. The number was rising still, and at this point, I didn't want to know what it had gotten to.

I stared back at the empty screen. The eerie atmosphere outside was accompanied by the unending ensemble of gunshots and sirens. I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the chaos.

My thoughts traveled back in time, before any of this started happening. My thoughts traveled back to the firing range, where Honey would try to make me lose my focus by yelling out stupid jokes from the inside of the food truck. They traveled back to Finnick's bar, where we would eat and drink to our heart's content and stumble back through the Grotto, drunk as can be. My thoughts traveled back to Koslov's Palace where Koslov would tell me stories about his son, and I would pay full attention in fear that if I didn't, I would get fired. They traveled back to that one time when he was utterly drunk and paid me with someone else's money. My thoughts went back to that same job, whenever I met that otter and he mysteriously gave me his number…

…

…

…

_Wait._

My mind jolted. A gear in my head was crammed into place. The floodgates were opened. Thoughts and memories of what he said filled up my head. His number. What he gave me. What he told me.

_Call me when the time comes._

It all made sense, but at the same time, it didn't. I shot up off the couch. The time had come. His number, I still had it. I rushed back around the couch and past the kitchen table.

"What? Nick what are you doing?"

I was already halfway up the stairs.

"I need to make a phone call!"

* * *

_Friday, March 11th. 12:13 AM_

The dim light of the street lamp illuminated the narrow back alley with a sharp, yellow glow. Shadows ran up the concrete walls and hid behind corners. The maze-like corridors of Happytown's neighborhoods zigzagged in unpredictable patterns. The ground was damp from the recent rainfall; It had been drizzling on-and-off since eight. A blanket of clouds covered the city in darkness. The sky was starless, and the moon refused to shine.

Tyler's house wasn't too far from mine. His apartment was near the rail yard on the west half of Happytown. The walk had taken me roughly twenty minutes, but it felt much longer. The National Guard was everywhere. Truckloads of armed officers paraded through the streets. Each convoy gave me piercing glares. They held their guns close, as if I could go savage at any moment. I did my best to ignore them.

The activity around me started to lessen. The shooting had slowed down in other districts. Sirens and gunshots began to taper out for the night as the protests subsided.

I looked back down at the paper; I was getting close. I kept the note he gave me close to my side, occasionally glancing at it to check his address. His apartment was built into a complex of small cells that stacked on top of eachother. Identical compartments were constructed on one another like building blocks. Small elevators were stationed in front of each column of apartments, giving mammals access to the higher levels.

_803 Douglas Lane, #87_

His apartment was on the seventh level of the eighth column. I mentally counted as I passed by the open elevators…

…

…

…

_80-89_

This was my ride up. The elevators reminded me of the lifts that window washers use to clean the sides of skyscrapers. The metal contraption had nothing but a lever to navigate. Right to go up, left to go down.

The rusty elevator squeaked and clanked as I began to ascend. I started to think. This otter knew something that I didn't. He accurately predicted that something was going to happen, but how? Millions of tiny questions began to grow in my head. I immediately wished the elevator could go faster.

I could hear the television set of an apartment I was passing by. The recognizable voices of the news anchors were muffled and distorted. I looked back over the rusty railing. The alley was dark and narrow. Lines of porch lights glinted in the foggy mist. The luminance of the light bulbs began to fade into blackness as the alley snaked along further into the distance. The ground below sunk down, resembling an endless abyss underneath the black fog. The dim lights illuminated the balconies, and nothing more.

_#86_

I watched as the bottom of Tyler's balcony lowered down to my level. I pulled the lever back to the middle.

_#87_

I stepped out onto the patio. The windows on either side of the front door were boarded up. His porch light flickered above the front door. The balcony was cluttered with old office supplies and compiled junk. I navigated toward the door.

This was it. Whatever was in store for me didn't matter now. My interest was peaked, my curiosity overflowing. I knocked on the front door.

I heard movement from within the room. Footsteps made their way along the floor and then, all was silent. I waited momentarily before a sequence of locks were unfastened. The otter was definitely keen on security. At once, he swung open the door, carrying a milk crate filled with papers.

"Ah! Mister Wilde, it's a pleasure."

He swiftly shoved the papers into my chest. I sunk back with the heavy load. The portly otter stepped out onto the patio and headed toward the elevator.

"Step inside, make yourself comfortable—”

He stopped in his tracks, whirling around to face me. He pointed his paw up into the air, speaking with a jocose tone.

“Actually no— Don't touch anything."

The otter looked mentally exhausted. He walked toward the right side of the patio and pressed a button next to the elevator. A loud buzz sounded, and the unmanned elevator began to descend back to ground level.

I cautiously stepped into his house. The single room was cluttered with magazines and news articles. Stacks of papers rose up to the ceiling. The apartment was cramped, yet tidy. Near the back of the room, a door led into a single bedroom, equally as crowded. Lamps were scattered throughout the apartment, filling up the room with uneven amounts of light. A TV buzzed with static on the left side of the room. On the right, an old typewriter sat on an oversized desk.

The otter returned and shut the door behind him. I watched as he fastened the locks and latches with flamboyant gestures. After a few singular seconds, he turned back around with his arms raised.

"Ah! —Thank you."

He firmly took the crate of papers from my grasp and staggered over to the desk.

"Would you like some coffee?"

He spoke over his shoulder as he plopped the papers down onto his desk. Although he seemed exhausted, the otter's tone had an energetic playfulness to it. He seemed almost excited about the recent events.

"Uh… Sure."

He rubbed his paws in satisfaction, spinning around and marching over to the single bedroom. I was again by myself in the strange space.

The mountains of papers towered over me. I have never seen anyone collect such an extensive amount of anything. The stacks were organized by topic. I glanced from one miscellaneous subject to another, walking over to the closest stack. Copies of laws and bills were printed out and organized by date. I glanced over at another stack. Reports of the city's water supply were assorted into a pile. I looked back up. A bookshelf leaned up in the corner of the room containing books of various kinds. A law-studies book, a novel about predator biology, four volumes of ancient history; all from authors I've never heard of. I didn't know what to make of it. But before I knew it, he was back with my coffee.

"So… Are you like a— a hoarder?”

“Something like that…”

He sat my mug down on the crowded desk and began clearing up a spot for me to sit. He set some papers down onto the floor and moved the typewriter over. His voice was vibrant yet informative.

“I'm more of a collector… I've read every book and magazine I was able to get my paws on— The more I collect, the more I know…”

He removed a box full of files from a chair, finishing his statement with a rushed grumble.

“ _And the more likely I am to die in a house fire —_ Please! Sit!”

He dragged a squeaky chair out and motioned for me to sit. I felt uncomfortable. If this were any other day, than I would consider leaving, but this otter possibly had the answers to important questions. I took a seat next to the desk.

"Alrighty! Let's get started."

He sat in a padded office chair across from me. Taking out a sheet of paper and readjusting his glasses, he began to introduce himself.

"My name is Tyler Gunsdon… You don't know me and I _definitely_ do not know you…"

I took a sip of my coffee. He examined the paper delicately, not necessarily reading anything off of it.

"But… I think that we could both help each other greatly."

His voice was weak. He set the paper down and looked back up at me.

"So, I am under the impression that you are a member of the Koroli…?"

"Um… well— not really. I know Koslov... and well— he gives me jobs to do."

My voice was shaky, I wasn't exactly sure why I was so nervous. It felt like I was attending an interview for a job that I desperately needed.

"Well, I was wondering if you knew a man by the name of Lupus Heisser."

The name was vaguely familiar. I wasn't too involved in gang-related activities, but I knew that he was once a very prominent member of the Koroli. I took another sip of my coffee. Lupus Heisser, I knew the name, but not the face.

"Heard of him, why do you ask?"

Tyler flipped the paper over and slid it over to me. The mugshot of a grey wolf was in the top, right corner. Below it, basic information listed off the wolf's physical characteristics. It was a police report. I read the name on the top, left corner.

_Lupus Heisser_

"He was a friend Koslov's… His— _second-in-command_ if you will… He had to disappear for a bit after a gang war gone south…”

"What happened?"

"He killed some kingpin in the Big Family. They sent their guys over to his apartment in Woodberry… After another shootout, he went under the radar."

I looked back up. Tyler had kicked his feet up onto the desk. He was staring at the crate full of papers next to where he sat.

"I've recently spotted him working down at the railyard. If he hasn't tried to eat someone's face off yet, he can be our key to getting out."

"... Getting— Getting out?"

Tyler looked back at me. He held a pen in his paw, flicking it around his fingers.

"That's right. We need to get out of Zootopia."

My thoughts froze. What he was suggesting was nearly impossible. No. It was completely unheard of. I shifted around in my seat. Nobody got out of the city-state. It just didn't happen.

_"What— how… —We can't— We can’t do that…"_

“We have to… It's the only way…”

“ _What are you fucking talking about?”_

Tyler sighed and leaned back on his chair. There was still something he wasn't telling me, something he knew. He thought for a brief moment before sitting back up. He tossed the pen back onto his desk and leaned up toward the crate full of papers. He dug through it, seemingly searching for a specific file. I took another sip of my coffee as I watched him search. Unable to find what he was looking for, he got up and trotted into his bedroom…

…

…

…

"...ah-Ha!"

He briskly walked back into the room with a folder with in his paws. Setting it on the desk, Tyler opened it up, revealing a long list of payments and receipts.

"This is a list of all fuel consumption and expenses used and payed for by the federal government."

"Is— Is having a list like this even legal?"

_"Well of course not! Look look look!"_

Tyler flipped the paper around to face me. He pointed toward the top of the sheet, near the most recent payments. A rather large shipment of gas was sent out to the head military base of Zootopia.

"The government pays for the trucks that deliver approximately three-thousand gallons of fuel to the military base on the fifteenth of every month."

Tyler pointed toward the side of the list. A column was made up of varying dates and times. He pointed to the date next to the large shipment amount.

An extra 1550 gallons were delivered on February 25th.

"Over fifteen-hundred extra gallons of diesel fuel was sent to the base just ten days after the monthly shipment."

I swallowed. It was definitely odd for them to need that much fuel. The Zootopian military works as efficiently as possible, and it was unusual for them to order fuel that they wouldn't use.

"And looky here!"

Tyler flipped over the sheet of paper to reveal a nearly identical list of statistics and figures. He slammed his paw down and pointed toward a recent shipment.

_"An extra 900 gallons of diesel fuel were shipped to the nearest National Guard station on February 27th!"_

"Why did everyone need diesel all of a sudden?"

What was even more peculiar about the sudden shipments was that they were both shipments of _diesel._ Diesel was expensive, and only big trucks used it for long journeys.

Tyler leaned forward in his chair. Thoughts seemed to run through his head at incomprehensible speeds. He rested his elbows on the desk and began to elaborate.

"Tell me… Where do you think all of these army caravans came from? The ones driving through the streets right now?"

"The… The army base. They came from the army base. All of them."

My mind began to put the pieces together. I could vaguely see where Tyler was taking this.

"And the National Guard?"

"The outpost…"

_"Exactly! The shipments of diesel fuel were made to get all of the trucks to the city!"_

Tyler was practically bouncing in his seat. His demeanor reminded me of whenever Honey was in one of her _sheep moods_. He was incredibly excited and anxious to lay it all out for me. It all lined up, but why? It made sense, but why was that important?

"But what does that have to do with anything?"

_"The dates! The timing! —Why the fuck would the government give out fuel to everyone if no one needed to use it?"_

"But… They did need it. They did use it."

_"Yes! But how did the government know that they would need it two weeks before they wound up using it?"_

A bell rang in my head. My skin went cold, and my heart dropped into my stomach. What he was suggesting horrified me. The puzzle had almost been entirely assembled. One, last piece was all it would take for completion; revelation.

"You don't think… Do you?"

_"YES! They knew it! They always did! The government knew that predators were going to go savage!"_

His final statement hung in the air. Static from the television filled up the cluttered room; otherwise, it was quiet. The government knew. It was confirmed. With the evidence that we had, it was all that we could make of it. Thoughts ran through my clouded head.

_They knew, long before it all started._

I felt numb. Sitting back, I tried to soak in all that I had heard. Tyler concealed his face with his paws. The whole world seemed to freeze. Time slowed down, as if it couldn't keep up with the jarring news. Tyler stood up and began to pace across the room. It was too much to take in, I almost didn't believe it.

_They knew and didn't tell anyone… But why?_

Tyler held his paws to his head as he walked back and forth. I gulped down the rest of my coffee and set the mug back onto the desk. A dreadful suspicion planted itself in my head. I assumed that he was implying my ideas, but I wanted to _clarify_.

"Do you think… They're _behind_ it?"

Tyler stopped pacing and sighed. The thoughts in his head were tiring him out mentally. He held his paws to his hips and looked up toward the ceiling, deep in thought.

"...Yeah …yeah, I'm certain of it."

"Why didn't you tell anyone sooner?"

He wiped his face and looked back down at me. He stood uncomfortably and tapped his foot anxiously. Tyler was as nervous as he was when I first met him.

_"I didn't know… Well I did, but… Look, all I knew is that the military was coming. I was expecting riots or something to happen but… God, I wasn't expecting anything like this; predators going crazy and fucking killing each other? Fuck man…"_

He sighed and remained there with a nervous posture. Looking back up to the ceiling, he went deep into thought. I sat up in my chair. Questions began to climb out of my subconscious and reveal themselves in my head.

"How are they doing it? _I mean_ … How are they making predators go savage?"

Tyler only snickered, still staring up at the ceiling.

"That, my friend, is the million dollar question..."

He looked back down again, turning toward the mountain of paper behind him.

"...I've been looking through everything. Food consumption, water supply, air filtration, everything! —Whatever is causing this to happen… it's affecting different predators at different rates – it has all of the characteristics of a virus."

It made sense, but only predators were being affected by it. If it was a virus...

"Wouldn't it also affect prey too? If it was airborne or in the water?"

"No… No it wouldn't— whatever’s making this happen is triggering something in predator DNA… Prey can't go savage… No— Not like this…”

Tyler went back to pacing back and forth. I leaned down and propped my head up on the desk. It hurt to think about it. Something was making predators go savage, and right now there's no way of reversing it. I never knew that I would be having a conversation like this. The government had done things to predators before. New laws were always being passed that targeted us specifically. But now, they were attacking us. Using our own bodies against us. How would the public react? A new idea came to mind.

"Why don't we just tell everyone? If everybody knew that it was the govern—"

"That wouldn't work… If anyone in the government found out that we know… _Fuck man_ — Look, the only way we can get through this is… is if we can find a way to stop whatever's causing the attacks to happen."

"So like… a cure or something?"

"Precisely."

"And how do we do that?"

We needed a plan. Tyler continued to pace across the room, looking as if he was searching for one in his head. He tottered down. The conversation seemed to tire him out physically. He got to the end of the room and turned around. His expression was that of deep contemplation. He was looking, searching for an alluded thought. The otter reached the middle of the room and stopped.

“...We can't do anything in the city-state— Not if the government’s behind all of this… No. We need to get out of here.”

He looked up at me.

“We need to find other mammals… Outside of Zootopia.”

I shook my head.

“Can't be done…”

“ _Nick… We have to—”_

“ _We're gonna get killed!”_

“ _Well we're all gonna die anyways!!!”_

His outburst was immediately filled with static-filled silence. The otter rested his paw on his temple, rubbing his head with shaking strokes. He took off his glasses and began to rub them against his wrinkled shirt. He spoke quietly.

“Look… Getting out of here’s gonna be… _difficult_ —but… _but haven't you ever wondered what's outside Zootopia?_ … _Don't you ever think that there's life out there?”_

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I didn't think about it too much. I've always been taught that nothing was out there, but with everything that's happened, I've been starting to have my doubts. I shook my head. I couldn't believe I was getting myself in this.

"Alright, so… We— we get out of the city-state… Look for mammals that may or may not exist… And then— see if they can help us… That's what we're doing?"

The otter sighed, bringing his glasses back to his face and placing his paws on his hips. Looking down, he began to slowly walk over towards the desk.

“I know it's far-fetched… _Fuck, it's… It's fucking crazy!_ —I wouldn't blame you if you doubt me, but…”

He rested his paws on the table. The wood creaked as he leaned down onto the crooked surface.

“If what we've found is true… And— and the government is behind all of this, then… We’re not gonna have that much time… ”

He was frightened by his own words, frightened by the truth. He was right. The government had complete control, and if they were the ones who released the disease, anyone who was smart enough to find a cure would be targeted by them. I felt sick. It felt like we were being watched, like we were being stalked by some hungry, wild beast. They controlled everything. They breathed down our necks, and escaping their grasp was practically impossible.

“I need your help…”

I looked up. It was a crazy idea, but the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. The government planned everything out. Speculation or not, our lives were on the line. The government was going to do more. It was only a matter of time. There was no grey area anymore. It was us against them, Predator against prey.

“Yeah… Yeah I'm in.”

“Alright…”

The otter leaned back up, confidence growing with every breath he took.

“Yes… Okay— Alright.”

"So what do we do now?"

Tyler didn't look back at me, he went back to walking around the same spot on the floor. With his paws on his hips, he simply remained there, contemplating.

"No way of getting out of the city tonight."

He looked up toward the locked door. His statements were short and to the point.

"Whole place is on lockdown. No imports, no exports, no way out."

He sighed before walking back to the desk. The office chair squeaked as he collapsed into the seat. The conversation had exhausted the both of us. It was well past midnight, and the coffee did nothing to help my tiredness. Tyler breathed heavily, and all was quiet. The white noise of the TV embedded its way into the rest of the environment; It was almost unnoticeable. Tyler leaned his elbows onto the table, staring blankly at the papers between us.

"We just need to… lie low for a while. Don't talk about this discussion to anyone you don't trust… We'll find a window."

His voice was soft and drawn out. Tyler seemed just as worried as I was, if not more. Whatever the government was going to do with us now, whatever they were planning for the disease they had possibly released… Part of me stayed doubtful. I wanted to believe in something else. I wanted to believe in something better. I wasn't sure if Tyler was telling the truth, but at this point, his facts and statistics were all that I could rely on. We're all going down the same horrific path, this is all that I know. We needed to get out, Honey, me, all of us. The city couldn't stay on lockdown forever...

Whatever the government was going to do now, it wouldn't be good. It horrified me. What if there won't be a way out? What if there's no window?

"... And if things get worse?"

Tyler exhaled. I could tell that the thought had crossed his mind before. We both seemed dreadful of what was coming, whatever it would be. If there was really no way out of the city...

"... We'll find a window."

Tyler sat there momentarily, deep in his secluded thoughts. It had been a long day, and I needed to rest. Tyler seemed to read my thoughts. He slowly folded up the mugshots of Lupus Heisser and gave them to me. Tyler aligned the rest of the papers against the desk and set them gently back in the crate.

"Go on and get some sleep. We'll need it."

Tyler set the crate down onto the floor and began to slowly walk to his bedroom. I sat up and made my way toward the door. I passed by the massive stacks of research that filled up most of the room. Getting to the entryway, I unfastened the locks and cracked it open. I looked back.

"Talk to you soon?"

Tyler paused at the doorframe of his bedroom. He looked ahead into his cluttered dorm.

"Yah, keep in touch."

And with that, I walked back into the foggy mist. The darkness surrounded me as I made my way through the crowded porch. The night seemed to only get darker. The blacks of dusk became blacker, and the dim porch-lights were swallowed up by the layer of dense fog. The endless drop-off below was still concealed by the ocean of black mist.

Pressing the button, I waited for the elevator to pick me back up, only to bring me back down into the endless abyss below.

* * *

 


	9. The Fences in Between

 

_Monday, March 14th. 11:37 AM_

It happened far too quickly. Predators marched down the city streets with everything they could carry. Suitcases dragged through puddles and skidded across the pavement. They were given only 24 hours to pack up their belongings and head to the district border.

Families held each other close in fear of getting separated. Children hugged their toys while babies cried and screamed. The steady stream of misplaced predators became a monsoon. Mammals of all kinds were getting crowded into separate lines at the gates.

Honey and I sat on an old overpass. The lack of maintenance had caused most of the road to collapse around us. The roadway that remained was high enough for us to look over the district wall and into the rest of the bureau. The front of the crowd was hidden behind the wall as they got closer to the front gates. We watched as Happytown began to fill up with a myriad of homeless Zootopians.

Honey looked over to me.

"How long do we have?"

I looked down to my watch. The cracked glass distorted the clock face slightly, but I could still make out the time.

"About…twenty minutes."

Residents of the southwest corner of Happytown were to report to the district square at noon. We were to get our new ID cards and our new collars. Attendance was mandatory. Honey began to stand up.

"We should get going."

She helped me up and we began our journey to the square. The sky was filled with a spectrum of greys. I looked west toward the ocean. Darker clouds were starting to roll in as thunder began to faintly rumble in the distance. The ocean was turbulent and choppy as wind gusts blew in from the open water. The air was humid and unstable. A streak of lightning suddenly lit up the sky over the ocean, and an aggressive crack of thunder soon followed.

Honey spoke up.

"I swear these lines or whatever better be indoors."

The two of us made our way onto the ground level. Isolated predators were already making their way toward the square. We were at the northern end of the Grotto. Families traveled together in individual packs. Most of them wore medical masks to protect themselves from whatever was causing the mammals to go savage. The steady stream of predators was nothing compared to the raging river outside of the district walls.

"How many army guys you think there'll be?"

I looked up at Honey. It was an interesting question, but it was also a good one. The sheer amount of predators at the square could easily overwhelm a single army troop, and I wouldn't be surprised if someone there went savage. The amount of feral incidents had decreased over the past couple of days, but predators were still at risk. With that in mind, there was probably an entire squadron at the square today.

"—A shit ton."

We kept walking. Buildings began to get larger as we made our way closer to the heart of Happytown. The steady stream of predators had become a small river. The streets became more dense with mammals.

Above all of us, dark rainclouds began to assemble into a single, large clump. The humming of the distant thunder began to increase in volume as the storm approached. Some of the predators in the crowd began to pull out umbrellas. I looked toward Honey, I think that she forgot the umbrella.

"Forgot the umbrella or something?"

She continued to look ahead as she gave off an exaggerated sigh. She had forgotten to bring the umbrella.

A collected group of voices became audible as we neared the district's main avenue. We passed by closed shops and inactive stores. Just five days ago, the streets were filled with rioting predators. The chaotic scene resurfaced in my mind. Mammals running through the broken windows of convenient stores, fistfights breaking out between predators, helicopters flying above it all with their bright spotlights pointed toward the mess. The events played out in my mind as we passed by the empty stores. The windowsills were boarded up, and the shattered glass was swept away.

The city was on lockdown for three days. The once busy district became a ghost town. The streets of Happytown were completely deserted. No businesses ran. No stores were open. Military troops were sent out to ensure that we stayed in our houses until further notice, and that's exactly what we did. It was that way for every other district as well. The city was dead, every bureau, every outskirt; lifeless. Both predator and prey sat in waiting, waiting for something to happen, waiting for the government to take action...

And today, they were.

The sounds of the voices became increasingly louder. I could see the crowd; Many had those medical face masks on. As we got closer, I realized that there were many more predators than I had once thought. The large mass of sound was quite loud, and we were still five blocks away.

We got closer.

I began to make out individual, distinct voices. There was yelling and screaming. My ears started to detect the different pitches of sound that came from the gargantuan crowd ahead of us.

We got closer.

It was now getting easier to distinguish the voices from one another. A baby was crying loudly. An officer yelled at somebody to walk faster. Fathers directed their families as they tried to stay close together. It was a scene of regulated chaos.

The predators ahead of us began to funnel down into a narrow line. Two officers with rifles stood at either side of the entrance on elevated platforms. A ram with a sniper rifle stood idly on the top of a military truck parked next to the entrance. Each of the officers kept close watch as the predators passed by, knowing that at any moment, one of us could become savage.

Honey and I had reached the entrance. Our slow-paced walking was halted by the back of the immobile line.

"Just like the Predchecks, huh Nick."

The setup was very similar to those of the monthly checkups. The sluggish speed of the line, the crowded yet controlled chaos, it was very close. However, the velvet ropes that ran alongside the lines were replaced by tall, chain link fences. The tent was replaced with a line of military trailers that mammals could enter and exit, and this time, anyone could go crazy at any moment.

Similar, but nowhere near identical.

There was a much larger crowd of predators to the right of us. The mammals carried various sized bags and suitcases. It was the crowd from outside the district. They were being put through the same process as we were. Between us, an elevated platform had been constructed for guards to keep an eye out. Two large chain link fences created a hallway for the officers to patrol through. The armed guards had a view of both large crowds. The other line was around three times bigger than ours, and I had a feeling that most of the predators had been there since morning. Many of them wore tired and exhausted faces. Some of them slept outside of the line's beginning, using their stuffed suitcases as pillows and draping jackets over their heads. I found it impressive that many had succeeded to fall asleep surrounded by the yelling and screaming of the crowd.

I could feel the first raindrops fall onto the top of my head. The sky had gotten significantly darker since Honey and I first began our journey. Umbrellas began to pop up amongst the crowd. As the line continued slowly, I started to hear an increased amount of yelling ahead of us. Like a river current before the raging rapids, the line suddenly began to hasten its pace. The nearly immobile standing had turned into a slow waddle.

The yelling grew louder, and I began to distinguish the single feminine voice. The demands of the harsh yells became clearer as we got closer. I was unable to see the mammal, but her voice was already quite intimidating.

"LEFT LINE! …YOU, MIDDLE, NOW!"

The single line was being divided up into three individual sections. Honey and I seemed to subconsciously stand closer to each other, not wanting to be separated.

"MONGOOSE, MIDDLE… CAN YOU HEAR ME?"

The source of the voice was within a few yards now. A family of brown bears stood in front of us.

"ALL OF YOU, RIGHT LINE! LET'S MOVE IT!"

The family walked over to the right, giving Honey and I a glimpse of the yelling woman. The squirrel stood on the raised platform with a list in her grasp. It amazed me that a mammal so small could produce a voice so-

"FOX, RIGHT LINE!"

I couldn't finish my thought. Stumbling a little, I started walking to the right.

"BADGER, MIDDLE! LET'S GO GUYS!"

Honey walked with her head down as we got into our separate lines. Today's events again reminded me of the Predchecks. The layout was very similar, and again, I was separated from Honey.

I stood behind the family of bears and waited. I began to think about that Thursday night. I thought about Tyler, and what he revealed to me in his cluttered apartment. He was sure that it was the government who caused all of this, but part of me still doubted his theory. A few gasoline receipts wasn't that much to go off of, but it was definitely suspicious.

The only mammal I told was Honey. She has never been a talker, and had kept secrets numerous times before. I told her for the same reason that Tyler told me. If something were to happen to me or Tyler… If the government found out and took us away, somebody still had to know. The government can control almost everything. They can control where we live and work, they can control the media to implant fear into the minds of prey, they can control everything; everything, except for our thoughts. Our minds were the only secure places that we had left. In a world full of surveillance and monitorization, our thoughts were the only safe-places that we were able to go to. Three mammals knew something that no one else did. The three of us didn't know the answers, but we knew where to look for them, and the government didn't know that we knew. As long as we had this information in our heads, we were above them.

The rain began to fall heavily onto the crowd. I stood nearby the large bears who had an umbrella with them. The edge of their umbrella gave me decent protection from the onslaught of precipitation. I looked over toward the middle line. Honey stood there eyeing me down as she was getting completely drenched. I couldn't help but laugh at the sight of the pissed off badger. Her angry expression slowly became a playful, mischievous smirk. An evil smile crept upon her face. Honey was thinking about how she was going to get me back.

That was the two of us. We had the maturity of twelve-year-olds, even when the world around us was falling apart. I found it comforting that we alway made the best of every situat-

"DAD!"

A piercing scream came from the outer-district line behind me. The volume of collected yelling grew louder as the commotion began to unfold. The other predators and I all turned toward the screaming. Two chain linked fences stood between us and the panicked predators.

A male bobcat was on the ground shaking. At first, I thought he was getting shocked, but then I saw that his collar wasn't being activated. To the right of him, a family of minks started to back up and away from the convulsing predator. To the left of him, two other bobcats, a little girl and an older woman, stood horrified as they saw the animal shake uncontrollably.

"DADDY?"

It was the girl who first screamed, the bobcats were his wife and child.

"Stand back! Get away from him! He turning sav-"

The male bobcat suddenly sprang up onto its fours and made a beeline for the mink family. The line began to scurry backwards as the bobcat closed in. The largest of the minks, most likely the father, took his suitcase and swung it at the bobcat. The projectile connected with the animal's face, stunning him temporarily. Then, a wolf threw a large suitcase over the mink family. The animals behind them started to follow suit as bags began to fly toward the bobcat. However, most of the baggage did not make it to the feral animal, landing in between it and the mink family.

Lightning illuminated the dark sky above us. The wind whipped and twisted through the city streets. The rain fell in sideways bursts as wind gusts carried it in random directions.

The mother and the daughter could only watch in horror as the father started to climb over the bags and suitcases, trying to get to the mink family. Jumping onto a polar bear's suitcase, the bobcat had gotten over the pile of luggage and prepared to pounce onto the minks. The yelling and screaming peaked. The father shielded the rest of the family as the predators behind them cowered back. Before the bobcat could jump, the collar went off.

The animal instantly went limp like a rag doll. The bobcat collapsed under its own weight and fell off of the large suitcase, shaking violently. A ram with a key walked in between the fences that divided the two lines. He went up to the a doorway in the fence and began to unlock it. The family of bobcats were in shock, seeing their father now sprawled out on the wet gravel.

"Stand back! Out of the way!"

The ram pushed mammals to the side as he made his way to the bobcat. The wolf and the minks leaned up against the fence as the ram passed by. Picking up the animal's leg, the ram started to drag the bobcat back toward the open gate and away from his horrified family. The yelling had died down, but predators in both lines still had their eyes glued to the scene.

The ram dragged the bobcat through the gate and closed it behind him. Setting the leg down, the officer began to speak into his radio as he put his keys into his pockets.

For many moments, he stood over the limp bobcat and talked into the intercom. Predators around me began to avert their attention away from the scene. The ram bent down and took out the bobcat's ID, reporting the information to the officer on the other end. I looked back to the bobcat's family. The daughter was in tears and dug her face into her mother's chest. The mother locked her eyes on the ram as she consoled her daughter.

The rain continued to beat down on us. Medical masks flew off of faces and umbrellas contorted in the wind. Mammals tried desperately to shield themselves using jackets and bags. Predators who didn't have protection from the rain were drenched.

A beeping sounded as the ram hung up on the radio and began to drag the bobcat into the open space between the two fences. Predators began to look back at the ram to watch what he was doing. The ram dropped the bobcat's foot again, now in the middle of the open space between the two lines. Bending down, the ram began to reach for the predator's neck. My heart dropped. It felt like I was hit in the stomach with a sledge hammer. The predators around me knew it too, many turning away from what was about to happen. I kept looking.

The ram took the bobcat's collar off.

_"PLEASE! NO NO NO NO NO! STOP!"_

The mother was screaming now, shielding her child with her embrace. The bobcat began to shuffle as it started to regain consciousness.

_"BABY! PLEASE SHOW THEM THAT YOU'RE OKAY! STAND UP PLEASE!"_

The frantic wife watched as her husband began to get on all fours. The bobcat struggled to stay upright, collapsing under its wobbly legs. The feral bobcat laid on the gravel, trying to catch it's breath.

The ram paced backwards and dropped the collar onto the gravel. The bobcat tried to get up again. The mother continued to scream as the ram walked back up to the savage animal. The bears beside me started to cover their cub's eyes. The crowd grew tenser. The rain fell harder. The sky became darker. The whole world was crashing down onto us. The bobcat had successfully gotten up during its second attempt. The predators around me prepared for the what was about to happen.

The ram pulled out his gun and shot the bobcat in the back of the head.

I looked away and closed my eyes. The image of the bobcat collapsing burned its way onto the back of my eyelids. The piercing screams of the mother drilled their ways into my ears. The raindrops stabbed me like knives falling from the heavens above. I felt numb. I tried to drown out all of my senses. I didn't want to see. I didn't want to hear. I didn't want to feel…

…

…

…

The rest of the day went by like a blur to me.

The queued crowds moved painfully slow. I neither looked at Honey nor the bobcats in the other line. I just looked straight ahead. I was soaking wet, but I didn't care.

Before I knew it, I was at the front of the line, and was soon ushered into the building. The bright, fluorescent bulbs shined blindingly in the interior of the army truck. The hog measured my collar size and gave me my new ID. She gave me a packet containing food stamps and other essential documents. After locking in my new collar, she thoroughly explained how food stamps should be traded and how the new shock collars work; none of which I paid attention to. She had me sign a few papers and led me on out. The recent events replayed themselves in my head the entire time. I didn't care about the food stamps or the papers, I didn't want care about anything.

* * *

The sidewalks were littered with homeless predators. Lines of families stood along the road, unsure of what to do. Some of them knew others that lived in Happytown, and were fortunate enough to have a place to stay. Those who didn't could only sit and beg for others to give them shelter.

The rain had cleared up. The sky revealed lighter shades of grey as the storm clouds moved out. The pavement was covered with isolated puddles. I listened as the storm drains below gushed out water into the underground sewers.

Honey was still in her line. I looked at my watch.

_1:15_

I was already exhausted. Last night was not forgiving. Around eight in the evening, military trucks began to pull into the district. Helicopters flew above us, but not to film any news footage. Officers began to knock at front doors, notifying predators about the mandatory attendance of today's affairs. In the Grotto, trucks with loudspeakers parked alongside the roads. Every 15 minutes, the same announcement would play. I went to bed at ten last night, and I listened to them at least 20 times.

Happytown was filling up fast. Within 24 hours, the district's population had quadrupled in size. New residents were given their new collars and just dumped into the street. My new collar itched. After a while, you get used to the constant rubbing. The nylon straps get broken into as you wear them more often. Predators were required to replace their collars once a year. Whenever I would get a new one, it almost always gave me blisters on my neck. They weren't designed to be comfortable.

However, these new collars were different. My collar pulled down on me more than the old ones; the weight of the devices had increased. Also, the new collars were far less flexible. The synthetic material was barely bendable, and nearly impossible to twist. It was clear that they were designed to be practically indestructible.

I could see Honey walk out of one of the trailers. She stepped onto the street and began to look either direction. She was searching for me. I raised my paw into the air and began to wave it around. I would yell, but the sheer amount of mammals in the square made it impossible to be heard without screaming. After a few scans, Honey found me and began to jog towards the bench I sat on.

"God these collars _itch!"_

She plopped down next to me, resting her arm around my shoulder. We were miniature compared to the size of the bench. In downtown Happytown, mammals of all sizes occupied the streets and sidewalks. Honey and I were at the small end of the spectrum.

We sat for a moment, watching the turbulence ensue. Displaced families were everywhere. Many used their suitcases as makeshift benches. A long line of predators had formed outside of a nearby pay phone. Children played happily in the narrow streets while parents watched over them. Honey scratched at her neck and looked toward me.

"Are… you okay?"

Her voice was soft and sympathetic. I don't think she could have seen the events unfold. Her line was to the left of mine, and the commotion all happened to the right. She most likely noticed my reaction to it, and although she couldn't have seen the shooting, she had to have listened to it. There was no doubt that she heard the mother's screams and listened to the gun shoot.

I only nodded. No matter how many times I see it on TV, no matter how many times I see it in real life, death always disturbed me. I had seen it enough times now not to show it, but you can never see it enough times to not have it bother you.

Honey sighed.

"Well we're done here so… How about we all head home."

Home. The one place I wanted to be right now was home. With all that had happened today, I wanted to get away from it all. I wanted to forget about what I've seen this past week. I wanted to lock myself in my room, in hopes that reality wouldn't come barging through my bedroom door.

That wouldn't work though. As much as I wanted to, I couldn't pretend that whatever was happening to us wasn't. We needed something permanent, a place to feel secure. We needed to get out. I didn't want to go home. I wanted to vacate everything. I wanted to leave Zootopia.

But for now, home was all I had.

We got up and headed south. We walked down the middle of the street, passing by stranded families with nowhere to go. Our feet splashed in the shallow puddles that lined the streets. The water reflected the bits of blue sky that began to reveal themselves behind the clouds. The sun tried to shine through the blankets of grey. I looked around at the crowd of mammals that surrounded us. Predators of all shapes and sizes were gathered in the town square. Families and friends clumped together like magnets.

And then, I saw them.

I stopped dead in my tracks. It was them. The mother and her child sat on their luggage among the other homeless mammals on the sidewalk. I felt my body get cold. I wanted to look away, but I couldn't. The mother held her only kitten on her lap. The girl was roughly half my age. She had to have been older than twelve, since bobcats get their collars at around that age. The woman wore an expressionless face, and the kitten dug her's into her mother's fur.

"Nick?"

Honey's voice sounded somewhat distant. I heard her footsteps approach as I continued to stare at the family.

"Hey, what are you…?"

Her voice trailed off as she followed my eyes to the sidewalk. Standing next me, she was able to see them too.

"Is that…?"

I nodded. The street around us was bustling with activity as we focused on the mother and her child. They had lost everything. They were forced to move out of their house and were crowded into the cramped district of Happytown. The only thing that the three of them had were each other, and now, they didn't even have that anymore. They were lost and hopeless, and like many others, they had to sleep on the streets.

I found myself fighting against my subconscious, fighting against the images of their pain. Their screams very well may appear in many of my future nightmares, but that didn't matter. Even if their ghosts haunted me for eternity, right now, they need a roof over their heads.

"We need to help them."

I started to talk out loud, unsure if it was intended for myself or for the both of us. Honey simply stared at them.

"How? —Give them food stamps?"

"No."

The mother petted her daughter's head while she slept. They were clearly misplaced, and it was obvious that they had nowhere to go.

"They need… They need a place to stay, Honey."

"Nick, I can't just…"

Her voice again trailed off as her conscience ate away at her. She didn't appear to be too fond of the idea.

"Nick, we can't just invite mammals into our house."

"Why not?"

"Because…"

Honey paused again. She seemed somewhat open about the idea, but she still knew that it wasn't what she wanted.

"Look, Nick. We only have a couple day's worth of food stamps between the two of us. I don't think either of them can work after… after what happened today. Even if we both get new jobs, I don't know how we can continue to feed them both."

"What about the cellar? You have lots of food down there."

"Yah, I know but…"

A new thought had crossed her mind. She wiped her face as she contemplated. Then, leaning into me, she spoke quietly into my ear.

" _But what if we leave?"_

Out of context, the question would confuse many, but I knew exactly what she meant.

"Then we'll tell Tyler that we have two more."

She stepped back and faced the bobcats again. She was deep in thought now. The idea of all of us getting out was interesting. We couldn't necessary tell them until we've already arranged the escape. Trust was vitally important now, and we needed to make sure that no one else knew about our secrets until the right time. Honey sighed heavily, she had made up her mind.

"I'll go talk to them."

Honey hesitantly went over to the bobcats on the sidewalk. She approached them cautiously, speaking with soft and quiet voice. I couldn't make out what they were saying, but I could see the the reactions of the mother. A broken smile began to form as Honey explained ourselves to her. Honey pointed once toward me and then south towards the Grotto. The daughter lifted her head off of her mother's chest as she began to listen to Honey.

I don't know what caused me to feel such sympathy towards them. I've never wanted to care about other mammal's problems, but now, I was inviting strangers into my house. The past week had made me realize though, that now, us predators needed to stick together. We're all strangers, but we're all in the same, sinking boat. If we can make each other's lives a little better, than kicking-the-can might be a little easier.

The three of them began to nod. Honey turned to face me and motioned for me to walk over, and so I did.

"You guys are a true blessing, really."

The mother was in tears, she had it worse than any of us. The child only looked up and smiled gratefully.

I offered to help.

"Do you need help with any of your bags?"

The mother nodded, and I bent down to pick up her heavy suitcase. Honey decided to properly introduce me to our new housemates.

"Nick, this is Mallory and Claire. Mallory and Claire, this is Nick, my housemate."

The mother sniffed.

"It's so nice to meet you two, you don't know how much this means to us."

I felt my heart warm up. It felt good to do good things, and right now, this family needed help. The images of them screaming in horror were obscured by their thankful gratitude. I tried to push the past events out of my head, but it will be long before I forget.

One thing was clear, we needed to get out of the city. We all needed security, and if we died trying to get to it, then so be it. In times like these, predators needed each other. Strangers will become acquaintances, and soon, they might become good friends. It's difficult to find differences when others treat you equally as horrible, and right now, we were all equally as fucked.

We all headed south, down a familiar path, unsure of what the days ahead of us would hold.

* * *

 


	10. Inside District Walls

 

* * *

_Thursday, March 31st. 2:14 PM_

The Grotto was bathed in the warmth of the mid-afternoon sun. Nature enveloped the world around us with rich shades of green. The sky casted pale blue light onto the water below. All was peaceful at our house, but I didn't pay attention to what was around me, I was trying to sleep.

I rested my head against the edge of the canoe as I floated idly on the water. A draped towel laid across my face to block out the sun. I drowned out the world around me, drifting in and out of sleep with every dawdling minute. The slight wobbles of the boat rocked me back and forth in a meditative rhythm. I sprawled out the rest of my body inside the boat, letting it soak in the warmth around me.

_This was nice._

Compared to the last two weeks, this was paradise.

_I could be here all—_

Suddenly, the slight wobbles intensified violently. The boat began to churn uncontrollably.

"Honey, I swear to god if you tip over this canoe…"

I heard a muffled laugh from across the small boat.

_"This is a kayak you idiot!"_

I sighed. My relaxing afternoon was accompanied by none other than Honey the bothersome badger. Knowing that I would be unable to get a decent day’s sleep, I took the towel off and sat up. I began to take in the familiar setting as I got reoriented. The boat had shifted directions while I napped. I was now facing the front door of the house.

The streets were flooded with over three feet of water. Over the past week, roads and alleys in the Grotto became rivers and creeks. The Grotto had always been prone to flooding, especially at this time of year. Without the proper maintenance of flood walls, the ocean covered the southern tip of the district with water every few months. During the spring, the sea levels can rise and fall drastically, and it'll only take a few feet for the Grotto to fill up like a bathtub.

Mammals that lived in the Grotto were used to the rising waters. Houses were built on stilts and some residents even had rowable boats. When flood levels got too high, mammals would paddle their way to work and back. I hadn't witnessed the occurrence until now. I've only know Honey for a few months now, but it felt like a few years.

We sat lazily with our kayak tethered to the front porch. Our house was built up on an elevated area of grass. The back of the house sat up against and underneath the concrete wall of an old onramp. The structure’s poorly constructed roof was bent and misshapen. However, the roadway above covered most of the house from the elements. The abandoned highway passed above the flooded street, providing us with much needed shade. I watched the fractured reflections of the water bounce off onto the bottom of the roadway above us.

Honey’s voice broke through the wind around me.

“Hey Nick…”

I glanced over. Her gaze had drifted down the flooded street. I responded tiredly.

“Yeah?”

“What do you think ever happened to Finnick?”

Finnick. I almost forgot about the guy. I hadn't seen him since we did that job in the Jungle Bureau.

“You— you haven't heard from him?”

“No… Have you?”

“No… no I haven't…”

The two of us became quiet. I turned my head and gazed down the road in the direction of his restaurant. Honey and I have only been to the establishment a couple times, and every time we were there, Ryan Coon was the only one running the joint. I leaned my head against the edge of the boat. Honey spoke with a soft and reassuring tone.

“He has a few safe houses around the city… Maybe he's in a different confinement zone…”

She was right, but the other possibilities still lingered.

“Yeah… Maybe…”

Suddenly, I heard the side door swing open. I glanced over at the noise, and in less than a second, Claire bursted through the doorway and into the side yard.

The house was a scene of serenity. The small hill went up from the flooded roadway and rose to the back wall of the onramp. The "T" shaped structure of the concrete created a tall, shaded alcove next to the house. A single tree grew in the yard, barely getting enough sunlight from underneath the road's sloped facade.

_"Come on, Mal!"_

The young bobcat enthusiastically raced to the tree. Mallory and Claire had been living with us for over two weeks now.

"Yah, Yah, I'm coming…"

Mallory appeared from inside the house carrying a basket and an old blanket. She had insisted on making lunch for the four of us. She smiled as she got to the tree and turned to face us.

"Time to eat!"

I felt the boat begin to shake as Honey shifted in her seat.

"Thank God! I'm starvin'!"

The last two weeks had been taxing for all of us. The district was finally starting to calm down. After that first day, Happytown remained in constant turmoil. The Grotto remained relatively peaceful, but around the square, things were much different.

The district was stuffed full. Jobless predators overflowed onto the streets. Fathers desperately searched for jobs in order to provide for their families. With 56,008 predators in the city, there were far more workers than job availabilities.

The first few days in the confinement zone were filled with extreme disorder. Crime was rampant in the heart of the district. Predators robbed others for food stamps. If mammals weren't working, they were starving. In response, an 8:00 curfew was put into place for predator divisions one and two. Predators were given a shock if they were seen out in the streets past curfew; but this stopped only some of the crime. During the day, the district square was filled with constant activity. Predators traded items and sold their belongings for food. Families gave away what little they had in order to eat. Predators could go to different outposts located within the district to trade their food stamps for pre-packaged meals... That's how it was supposed to work at least.

Officers struggled to keep predators at bay as protests began to spring up. Trained soldiers were unsure of how to handle the turbulent crowds. Stores and offices were getting robbed almost every day. Business began to close down, unable to handle the constant bombardment of thefts. Many families had not gotten a place to stay yet, and most hid in back alleys and under bridges to avoid the crime. The government eventually tried different ways of calming the district down.

It wasn't long before Happytown started to slowly settle down. Within a week, the protests subsided. Officers began to enforce new laws, and predators began to follow them. Crime decreased as soldiers began to intervene with the district's adjusting economy. Now unable to travel anywhere else in Zootopia, the predators' demand for jobs began to rise. As new businesses began to spring up, the currency of food stamps slowly began to circulate.

Prey saw the opportunity for cheap labor, and in under a week, new factories started to run in the outskirts of Happytown. Predators eagerly took the positions, despite the low pay. Workers were often given a small dormitories to live in, and so now, fathers were able to move their families from off the streets and into the cramped living quarters. It wasn't much, but it was far better than nothing. The new factory arrangements further decreased crime, and eventually, most of the crowded groups of homeless predators disappeared. The district began to fall into a continuous routine, and the economy stabilized somewhat.

As for me… I remained unemployed. I looked around for jobs nearby, but almost no one was hiring. The small amount of spots that were available were far too difficult for a mammal of my size, and they payed almost nothing. If Honey and I didn't have a basement full of food, we would be screwed.

Mallory and Claire spent almost all of their time at the house. Claire spent most of her time outside. Honey and I would show her around the Grotto. When the flood waters rose, we often took her kayaking through the neighborhood streets. Mallory kept busy at the house. She spent most of her time cooking and baking. Mallory would come up with new combinations, and make new ways to serve the freeze dried meals that we kept in the basement...

We didn't allow the two of them into the basement.

Shortly after the bobcats moved in, military troops began to show up at predators' front doors. Soldiers looked through homes and apartments in search of weapons. The new laws had stated that predators were prohibited from owning firearms, and we had an entire arsenal beneath our sink.

* * *

That day, Mallory and Claire went out for the first time since they had arrived at the Grotto. I was folding laundry when Honey bursted through the door.

"THEY'RE COMING!"

"What? Wait— Who?"

She ran through the living room and got down next to the sink.

"THE POLICE. THEY'RE CHECKING ALL THE HOUSES FOR WEAPONS."

"Do you think they'll even look down there?"

Honey was already climbing down into the hole.

"WE CAN'T RISK IT."

She was down there for two minutes. Meanwhile, I swept through the house, looking for anything that might get us in trouble; anything that might have revealed our secret. I found the mugshots that Tyler had given me and shoved them into a pile of bills in my bedroom. I ran back downstairs to find Honey climbing out of the bunker. A loud knock came from the door.

" _What did you do?"_

" _Doesn't matter. Open the door!"_

"—Coming!"

I walked over and unfastened the lock. I looked back at Honey one last time before opening the door. The soldiers took no time to introduce themselves, barging in instantaneously.

"Well, _please come in—”_

"Shut it, fox!"

The soldier didn't like my sass, and neither did Honey. She gave me a disapproving glare. I started to smell something… or someone. I at first thought it was the soldiers, but as they began to search the different rooms of the house, the stench lingered. I nonchalantly walked over to Honey. She sat there with her arms crossed, glaring ahead into the other rooms of the house.

It was her.

"Check the upstairs bedroom!"

"Yes, sir!"

We could hear sounds of cabinet doors being slammed. The soldiers rummaged through our belongings without care. I could hear the stomps of one of them marching up the stairs. A pig walked back into the living room to watch over us. He eyed us down, observing the two of us meticulously. After a minute, the other two soldiers returned back to the living room.

"All clear so far, sir."

"Check the kitchen."

The pig kept his eyes on us as the other two soldiers began to go through the kitchen cabinets. I became nervous; I tried my best to hide my anxiousness. The pig watched the two of us, as if he were waiting for one of us to confess where our weapons were; as if he knew that we had any.

"Sir, I found something."

The three of us turned toward the sheep. He had found the trapdoor underneath the sink.

He reached down to open it.

"Where does that lead?"

The pig had directed his question at me. I turned back, unsure of what to say. Before I could come up with a response, Honey answered the question for me.

"The septic tank."

I heard the loud squeals of the trapdoor hinges behind me.

_"OHHH!-"_

We turned back to the sheep. He slammed the door immediately and got up, covering his nose and mouth.

_"—It smells like straight up piss down there!"_

It smelled like piss… _Piss_. It was the smell. Honey smelled like piss. Which means that…

… Honey had opened the jars of urine that she kept in the bunker.

The pig grunted.

"Come on. House is clear."

The two other soldiers marched out of the front door. The pig turned back after reaching the door frame.

_"And make sure it stays that way."_

He slammed the door. We still had the bunker, even if it smelled like urine. It would take many days for the stench to leave.

Mallory and Claire do not know about the guns in the basement, and they do not know about our secret.

We now keep the entrance locked, and Honey has the only key. Whenever one of them would ask, we’d just claim it's to keep robbers out. Honey and I have been waiting for the right moment to tell them.

* * *

Honey and I got to the shore next to our house. Honey stepped out first, anchoring the kayak on shore. I got out into the shallow water and began to readjust myself to the solid ground; Honey and I were out on the boat for over an hour. I felt the grass slide in between my toes as I got onto the hill, drying them off. Mallory began to lay the blanket out onto the ground. Honey and I made our way up toward the tree. Claire opened the top of the basket to reveal four bowls of macaroni and cheese.

"Which one's mine?! Ooh! Give me a fork!"

Claire enthusiastically hopped above the food. Mallory walked over and picked up the basket, laying it on the blanket.

Mallory chuckled.

"Well, somebody's hungry."

Honey plopped down next to the tree, just as anxious to eat.

"I think we all are, Mrs. Lyn."

I sat down next to Honey, facing the water. Mallory handed out the bowls and silverware. Afterwards, she sat next to her daughter, and we all began to dig in. The food was delicious. The packages of rations that were purchased using food stamps were nothing compared to Mallory's home cooked meals. Honey began to speak, her face stuffed with food.

"I swear Mal, you make freeze dried macaroni and cheese taste like heaven on earth."

"Why thank you, Honey."

Honey nodded, stuffing her face with another mouthful of macaroni. We all sat and ate, enjoying the beautiful weather.

The water in the street reflected the bright blue colors of the sky. The smells of sea salt filled my nose as the wind blew underneath the highway. The tree leaves rustled as gusts funneled through the towering concrete walls. The house's white, wooden walls were soaked in the salt-filled air. The white paint was mostly chipped due to the humidity, revealing the light blue layers of paint underneath. The base of the staircase leading up to the porch was underwater. The seawater clapped and smacked against the wooden planks. The whole place seemed to saturate in the bright sunlight. Blues were bluer, the smells were smellier, the heat was hotter. The surroundings overloaded my senses with overwhelming vibes.

This was our paradise in hell. A safe place to protect ourselves from the crumbling world around us. Even when Happytown was generally peaceful, there was still pain. Predators were still going savage...

Predators were still dying.

The tall, concrete walls and the spiderweb of elevated roadways shielded us from the outside world. Our house was the nest and the highways were the tree. Even after Happytown was filled up with thousands of displaced families, the Grotto was still peaceful like always. If I didn't have the possibility of going crazy at any moment, I would have loved to stay here forever.

But that was the reality of the situation. If Honey and I had any chance of living through the epidemic, we needed to find a cure. We needed to leave the city.

I often find myself thinking about what living with Honey would be like if predators hadn't gone savage. I wish that we could spend the entire summer relaxing by the ocean that sat outside our front door. I wish that we could have more mornings together, drinking coffee on the front porch, talking about whatever we wanted to talk about. I wish that we could go back. Back to a time where we didn't have to care. Back to a time where we could watch the seasons pass from outside our bedroom windows. Back to a time where we could swim during the summers and bundle up during the winters.

I wish that I had met Honey sooner.

But here we sat, eating macaroni and cheese with plastic forks, wearing collars that could electrocute us to death.

The telephone began to ring from inside the house. Honey set down her bowl as she started to get up.

"I got it."

She swiftly made her way toward the house. The door creaked as she rushed through, not wanting to miss the phone call. Claire spoke up.

"Hey Nick?"

I turned back toward the Lyns.

"Yah Claire?"

Her voice was shy and friendly. When she had first gotten to the house, she barely spoke at all. She would occasionally ask the typical questions, like where the toilet paper was, or if we could turn the heat up. Mallory was very much the same way. However, she eventually began to open up. As the Lyns got more comfortable, they began to warm up with welcomed attitudes.

Mallory was a housewife at heart. She started to help Honey around the house, taking up many responsibilities. She spent most of her day in the kitchen, preparing almost all of our meals. She was naturally shy, and blushed whenever we complimented her cooking. She was pleasant to be around, and made great friends with Honey as they kept the house in check.

Claire was an adventurous young bobcat. She was always wanting to explore the Grotto. Mallory would only allow it if either Honey or I were with her. At first, she was vague about it, trying to drop off hints for the two of us to take her out of the house. As she got more comfortable, the questions became more blatant and were asked more frequently. She loved to run through the once abandoned neighborhood, finding different things to search through and climb onto. When the flood levels rose, she was always wanting to swim or go rowing on the boat.

"Do you think we can take the boat out again later?"

Mallory smiled. She loved to see her child being so adventurous, especially after what they had gone through only a couple weeks ago...

"Hey Nick! It's for you!"

"One sec!"

I turned back as I began to stand up, placing my empty bowl back into the basket. I glanced back to answer Claire's question.

"I would love to! And I'm sure Honey would too!"

Claire smiled and jumped in her seat. Mallory began to clean up the picnic supplies as I made my way to the house. I wasn't too sure who was calling us. We rarely used our telephone.

I got through the door. Honey waited in the kitchen with her paw over the speaker. She answered my question before I had the chance to ask it.

_"It's Tyler."_

Tyler. I had not talked with him since that night three weeks ago. The last thing he had told me was to lay low until things quieted down. I quickly made my way for the phone.

"... Hey, is this Nicholas?"

His voice was muffled by the constant static in the background.

"Yeah, yeah it is."

Honey went to sit on the couch across the room, listening to my end of the conversation. I waited for him to speak. Phone calls were usually always monitored, and so we couldn't blatantly talk about our future plans.

"I was— uh… wondering if you were free tomorrow morning."

I didn't have a job, and so my schedule wasn't necessarily packed. Even if I had something to do tomorrow, it would simply have to wait.

"For what?"

"Well… I've started to clear out some of the clutter in my apartment; spring cleaning if you will. It is —uh… pretty messy, and I was wondering if you could help me with the heavy lifting."

It was an odd request. I wasn't sure if he was actually cleaning out his house, or if he just wanted me to meet with him. Either way, my curiosity answered the question for me.

"Yah— yah I can."

"Great! I will see you tomorrow at approximately 4:30 in the morning!"

"Wait wha—"

He hung up before I could protest. It was a peculiar time to catch up on spring cleaning. Night time curfews ended at four so that predators could get to their early-morning jobs. Predators who worked overnight were given special permits by their employers. If they were caught outside during curfew, they had to show their permits and explain where they were going and why. Four in the morning was the earliest time that predators without permits could walk the streets…

…

…

…

I’d have to remind myself to set an alarm later.

* * *

_Friday, April 1st. 4:27 AM_

The dim street lamps did little to combat the darkness that devoured the streets. I followed the lights along the road, barely able to see the ground underneath my feet. I could see the distant silhouettes of other predators as they made their way through the darkness. Factories often had unforgiving hours, and many had to wake up long before the sun rises.

I followed the winding streets of Happytown. Apartments towered over me as I maneuvered through the narrow alleys. Tyler's neighborhood was built for smaller predators, yet the ginormous buildings were far larger than most. The rooftops of apartments disappeared into the darkness above, making them seem endlessly tall. The cobblestone paths were illuminated by the soft hues of the buzzing lights that lined the streets. Clotheslines zigzagged their ways above me. The intricate patterns maximized the amount of clothing that could be hung. The sky above me was blocked out by the colorful cluster of shirts and pants.

I rounded and twisted my way through the labyrinth of narrow streets. The neighborhood was built before the introduction of automobiles, and so the streets were far too narrow for driving.

I could smell the warm scent of baking bread and brewing coffee. A select number of shops and stores began to get ready for the day. Street corners were lit up by the bright lamps from within store windows. Dots of light began to appear above me as predators started to wake up. Those who didn't have the luxury of sleeping in appeared to be preparing for the day ahead of them. The growing luminance began to shine down onto the dark streets below. The district was slowly becoming alive.

I finally made it to Tyler's complex. It had been exactly three weeks since we had that vital discussion; three weeks since he told me everything.

I boarded the metal elevator and began to ascend. The winding corridors of the street was more visible this time. I could see further down without the foggy haze. The sky began to show it's first shades of dark grey as the sun climbed higher from below the unseen horizon.

I got to apartment #87. I immediately noticed that the patio was much cleaner than when I first visited. The old office supplies had vanished, revealing the bare, concrete floor of the balcony. Everything else was the same, the windows were still bordered up, and the porch light still flickered. However, there was a sheet of paper that was securely taped to the front door. I got closer; it was a federal document.

**CONDEMNED**

**This residence has been recognized as unfit for mammal habitation and is considered dangerous for occupancy.**

**Use of this property is prohibited by** _**Morris Hughes,** _

**Director of Housing and Residential Facilitation.**

**March 29th, 764 P.A.**

Tyler's house was condemned, I wasn't sure whether I should knock. The lights inside seemed to be on, but I wasn't sure if he was in there. He had called me earlier today, but the notice had been posted two days ago. Something was off, but before I could make anything of it, the door swung open.

"Well isn't it my favorite fox!"

Tyler wore an energetic expression. His bloodshot eyes suggested that he had been up all night, but he was still unusually peppy, especially since it was nearly half-past four. I noticed that the apartment behind him was significantly cleaner than before. The hoarded files and documents had vanished, and the room was practically spotless. Tyler noticed my observations.

"Quite an achievement, isn't it? Took me nearly two weeks… Guess the Spring's got me in the _cleaning spirit_."

I glanced again at the back of the door where the condemnation notice hung. Tyler followed my eyes.

 _"Oh_ this!"

He quickly took the paper town and tossed it inside. Tyler then reached for a bag on the ground.

" _Don't worry about that—_ Anyways! … I was thinking about giving you the honors of carrying the last bag of trash down with me!"

There was something else. Tyler was a smart mammal from what I could tell, but this was strange of him. Why on earth would he invite me to his apartment at four in the morning to throw away a single bag of trash?

"Uh—Yah! I would… love to!"

He only nodded as I took the bag from his grasp. The papers inside made the load particularly heavy. I slung it around my shoulder and started to drag it to the elevator. Tyler locked his front door and followed into the lift. He pulled the lever, and we began to make our way to the ground.

"So how have you and Honey been holding up?"

It seemed that Tyler was trying to force himself to converse normally. Since our collars recorded our voices, it was going to be difficult to actually talk about our plans. It was clear that he hadn't forgotten them, and for me, it was all I could think about.

"Oh— we've been doing good! Yah— things are good."

It was a very awkward ride down. The occasional squeaking would come from the elevator's mechanisms, filling up the silence momentarily. The metal cage jolted from time to time, briefly pushing our bodies against each other.

After what felt like an eternity, the elevator made it to the ground level. Tyler stepped out first to lead the way.

"Follow me."

I followed Tyler through the narrow pathway. We passed by a few other predators as they made their way to work. Tyler did not once look at any of them directly in the eye. I followed him into an alleyway behind a small office supply store.

"Where are we going?"

He got to a locked gate and began to grab for the key in his back pocket.

"We are disposing the trash, Mr. Wilde."

I began to feel anxious. Tyler was acting shady. The whole situation was shady. Part of me wanted to run. There could have easily been an entire gang of predators waiting in the to mug me in the dark. Tyler may have been trying to kidnap me, and I was nonchalantly allowing him to do so. My imagination ran rampant. What if he locked the gate behind me? What if he—

"Are you coming?"

Tyler was already past the gate, waiting for me to walk through. I began to walk forward. I had to trust him.

The alley led to a small, secluded inlet behind the store. Large dumpsters sat along the back wall, filled with cardboard and packaging materials. Other than the locked backdoor of the shop, the gate was the only way to get in, and the only way to get out.

"Alright, throw the bag in here."

I could barely see Tyler in the dark. His black silhouette was illuminated only by the dark blue sky above. He gestured toward a metal barrel as he began to reach for something in his pocket. Part of me doubted my previous decisions; I looked back at the open gate. Running was still an option… No, after what had happened in the past couple weeks, I had no choice but to trust him. It was the only option. I threw the bag in.

"Okay, you see that jug there? —Yah. Right there. Pour it all in the barrel."

I took the unknown fluid and began to pour it onto the bag in the barrel. When I ran out, I tossed the container in with the trash. I heard a match strike against the rigid edge of a matchbox. After a couple attempts, Tyler ignited the match in his paw, and threw it into the barrel.

The trash ignited almost instantly. The fire created an aura of light that reflected against the concrete walls of the alley. I could see Tyler's satisfied look. I pointed to the burning barrel.

"What even is that?"

"The trash?"

I nodded.

"Ah… Just some stuff that I uh... wasn't supposed to have."

Suddenly, it all made sense. All the made-up scenarios that I had made up in my head were immediately dismissed. The collars. The voice motorization. If Tyler simply told me what he was doing… _They_ would find out. It was the reason Tyler wasn't telling me more. The reason why he was being so conspicuous. It was why he had been acting so shady. He was burning the illegal documents that he had stowed away in his apartment.

He was destroying the evidence.

If we were going to escape, we needed to cover our tracks. Had Tyler left his house in the state it was in, it would have told everything to anyone who walked in; what we knew, how we knew it, where we were headed… It could have revealed everything. He had to burn the documents secretly, where no one could see him. He had to burn them at night so that no one saw the smoke. He had to burn them in the back alley, and he had to lock the gate whenever he left, ensuring that no one would stumble upon the papers before they were fully destroyed.

We stood there in silence as we watched the papers burn. A new question popped in my head.

"Hey, Tyler?"

I glanced over at the otter. The bright glows of the fire reflected off his glasses like mirrors. His expression was blank.

"Hmm?"

"Do you know the guy that owns this shop?"

Tyler looked toward the back door and then over to me. If he was going to destroy legal documents in this back alley, he had to have trusted the guy that owned the property. Tyler nodded.

"He owed me some favors."

I looked back to the fire. The bright, flickering flames bounced and danced in the containment of the barrel. The sky above remained dark blue. It would still be a couple hours until sunlight broke through.

"Oh! —And one more thing before you go…"

Tyler reached for a folded sheet of paper in his front pocket. Pulling it out, he began to smoothen the paper against his leg, attempting to get rid of the wrinkles and the creases. He brought the paper up to his face and then looked back toward me.

"I am under the impression that you are currently unemployed..."

I nodded, but why did that matter? I didn't need a job. Tyler looked again at the paper as he began to walk forward.

"Well— I've been talking to my buddy down at the rail-yards, and apparently, they have a few spots open…"

The rail-yards. Tyler had told me about the rail-yards. If we were going to escape… I needed to work at the rail-yards. I grabbed the paper from his extended paw. It was a resume.

"I think the job will suit you well."

I nodded. I knew what this meant. He was sending a message, not by words, but with actions. I knew what he was trying to tell me.

I parted ways with Tyler, walking out of the alley and into the street. The sun continued its slow climb toward the distant horizon. Passing conversations filtered through the silent air. The waking world around me returned into view as I made my way back down the street.

I looked back at the paper. The resume had boxes to check and lines to fill out, asking for my basic information. However, on the bottom of the paper, there was a note scribbled below the questions and qualifications. I couldn't read what it said, so I made my way to the nearest street lamp.

On the bottom of the resume, Tyler had added a scribbled note. My suspicions were justified, and my new goal was set. Tyler had given me one instruction:

“ _Make friends with Lupus Heisser."_

* * *

 


	11. The Big Day

 

* * *

_16 Years Ago_

Nick woke up to the warm smells of pancakes. His bedroom was illuminated by the faint sunlight that spilled onto the floor. Nick pondered for a moment as he slowly began to realize what day it was. Yes! It was a very important day! He sprang out of bed and bolted to the kitchen. Today was the big day, his first day of school.

He ran down the spiral staircase and acrobatically vaulted over the railing. He zoomed by his father's cluttered office and made it the small room at the back of the store. Only a small section of the building was made for residential purposes. A narrow hallway ran along the back of the store, with a single door connecting it to the main showroom.

The rest of the department store was filled with aisles of suits of all shapes and sizes. Custom tailored tuxedos and jackets lined the small store's display windows. From the smallest mouse to the largest elephant, mammals of all kinds could purchase a suit of their choice.

Nick leaped into his chair, anxiously awaiting his fluffy stacks of pancake goodness. The wooden paneling of the small kitchen soaked up the warm hues of sunlight. The ceiling fan shook and wobbled as it spun. The smells of coffee began to radiate as Nick's dad poured grounded coffee beans into the boiling water on the stove. The daily routine kicked off as usual, a routine that would last for many years.

"Hey Nick."

The father looked down at the fryer, facing away from his son.

"Morning dad!"

The father remained quiet for many moments. Nick tilted his head in confusion. He was befuddled by his father's weird behavior.

"Think fast!"

At once, the father grabbed a pancake from the stack beside him and flung it at Nick, throwing it like a frisbee. The pancake soared through the air like a flying saucer. Nick excitedly jumped onto his seat and caught the pancake with his mouth. He celebrated with his mouth full, the pancake still hanging out from his jaws.

"Look Dad! I caught—"

As Nick bit down onto the pancake, the fluffy saucer split into two. The section hanging out of his mouth fell, smacking against the edge of the table before plopping against the wooden floor. Nick was slightly disappointed.

"—it…"

Nick's dad began to chuckle at the sight. His laughter was young and playful. Although he seemed significantly old for his age, Nick's dad was only in his thirties. He was skinny and tall, much like what his son would be when he grew up.

"Don't worry, Nick. There's plenty more."

He grabbed the plate and walked around the counter towards the small table. Nick was already grabbing for the pancakes before his dad had the chance to set them down. His dad chuckled again. The sight of his energetic son made every day much better for him. He turned back around and headed toward the fridge.

"So, your first day at the new school, huh?"

Nick could only nod; his face was already stuffed with pancakes.

"Mmhmm."

Nick's dad got a carton out and began to pour milk into two empty glasses. Nick continued to devour his breakfast. He was a fast eater, and whenever he was having something he liked, his plate would be clean almost instantly.

"Are you nervous?"

The father's demeanor was peppy and jubilant. He seemed almost more excited about his son's first day than Nick was.

"Nope!"

Nick shoved another mouthful of pancakes into his face. His father came back to the table with two full glasses of milk. At last, he was able to eat. He took a few pancakes off of the plate and began to cut them up into squares.

"Well you see. _Back in my day_ , school was very different."

"Dad!"

"Us predators had to travel _five miles_ through _ten feet_ of snow!"

"No you didn't!"

Nick's dad began to laugh. In the past, he would be able to mess with his son, making him believe all sorts of unrealistic tales. However, his son eventually caught on to his father's mischief, and he quickly realized that many of his dad's stories were either exaggerated or completely made-up. Still, Nick's dad didn't stop with the stories, and Nick often found them amusing.

"Oh, and you won't _believe_ what _my_ dad had to go through as a child."

"What?"

"He had to travel through _twenty_ feet of snow!"

They both giggled, and the dad began to dig in. Nick's father didn't make pancakes often, but when he did, they were always delicious. Nick was already halfway through his plate before his father could even pour the syrup onto his. Nick looked up to the counter. A brown paper bag was stuffed full with his lunch. Beside it, a small book bag slumped on its side, filled with necessary school supplies. Nick had always imagined what his new school was like.

The father began to speak in a more sincere tone.

"Look, I know that it will be a little… _Uh_ — hard, for you…"

Nick looked up from his plate as he swallowed another mouthful of food.

"... You know, it being the middle of the school year… and the move here…"

Nick drooped his head as he came to the realization. His old friends were no longer near him. Nick lived in a different part of town now, and being so busy at the shop, he hasn't had time to meet any predators his age. Nick's dad spoke in his persuasive, entrepreneur voice.

"... But! I think that you will be absolutely–positively–100% Fine! And you wanna know why?"

Nick perked up as his question hung in the air. The father lifted his son's head up encouragingly and replied in a sincere tone.

"Because you are perfect, just the way you are. You're gonna make a ton of new friends."

"You really think so?"

"Of course! Mammals would be lucky to have you as their friend!"

Nick smiled and resumed piling pieces of pancake into his mouth. The room seemed to warm up as the distant sun began to rise, brightening up the small, cosy kitchen. Nick's dad suddenly jumped from his seat.

"Oh! And I almost forgot!"

He swiftly ran into the hallway and into his room. Nick looked back from over his chair toward the kitchen door. He could hear the floorboards creak as his dad jogged back to the kitchen. He came back and paused at the kitchen doorway, now holding a small, brown jacket.

"OH YAY!"

Nick excitedly jumped from his chair and ran to his dad at the doorway. Nick looked over every inch of the miniature jacket. The slim, clean cut of jacket was remarkably pristine. The suit was sewn with an extra layer of fabric for increased durability. A row of buttons ran along the right side, allowing Nick to easily put on and take off the jacket.

"Thankyou! Thankyou! Thankyou!"

Nick jumped into his father, wrapping his arms around his waist. Nick had always wanted a new jacket, and this one was perfect. He hopped excitedly as he continued to hug his father at the waist. His dad smiled at the sight of his ecstatic son. As long as his son was happy, he was happy.

"Yep, I thought that you should look sharp on your… Well— _second_ first day of school."

Nick buried his face into his father's stomach. He returned the hug, placing his paws around his son's shoulders. Nick’s father wished that moments like these came more often; presents were a privilege they could rarely afford. Money was always scarce, and the two of them were exceedingly busy during work days. Whenever he had the chance though, Nick's father would try his best to make his son's life more enjoyable by giving him what little he could. When life was difficult for the two of them, it was his job to make the best out of every situation. It was his job to make his son happy, an obligation that he very much enjoyed. They embraced for many moments, and Nick's dad cherished every second.

The moments wouldn't last forever though, and they both knew that. Nick's dad looked up at the clock that hung on the wall.

"Oh! You better hurry up and put this on!"

Nick took the jacket and jubilantly ran to the bathroom. The suit was a near perfect fit. Nick's dad knew his son's measurements, however, he purposely made it a loose fit on Nick. The suit would last him a long time, and the slight oversizing would allow him to grow into it. Nick ran back into kitchen with glee. His father had his son's backpack and lunch sack ready for him near the back door.

"Just like your father."

Nick walked up and hugged his dad, his sleeves draping over, extending past his small paws. The father grabbed a small collar from the counter. Kneeling down, he strapped it around his son's neck and fastened it securely.

"Too tight?"

His son shook his head as he readjusted the collar. The father pulled on the safety lock, ensuring that it would remain closed for the rest of the day. Slowly, he stood up and stepped back. His eyes drifted apprehensively toward the device on his son’s neck. There was a tremorous pause…

…

…

…

Soon however, he snapped out of his sudden stupor and opened the back door.

"You have fun now, are you sure you don't want me to walk to the bus stop with you?"

Nick stepped back and shook his head. The two of them had been anticipating this day for a while, and now, it was time to start a new chapter of their lives. Handing his son his school supplies, Nick's dad smiled proudly.

"Alright. You be good now. I love you."

"Love you too!"

Nick hopped with excitement as he walked out the back door. The sun shone into the empty street outside. The air was filled with the muted ambience of the city around them. Nick turned to the right and began to skip to the bus stop. Today was the big day, and he was anxious to make new friends on his first day of school.

"Hey Nick!"

Nick stopped and turned around, facing his father who stood on the small stoop of the back entrance. He lifted his paw, pointing to the opposite direction.

"The bus stop is that way!"

Slightly embarrassed, Nick made his way back toward the store in the other direction. His father could only chuckle to himself as he watched him pass by. Now headed in the right direction, Nick began to skip gleefully again. The father watched as his son made his way to the nearby corner. Nick stopped where he was to continue north. The closest bus stop was three blocks away from where he stood.

Nick's dad watched as his son paused at the corner, looking up the street. Something was wrong. Nick was hesitating. Suddenly he began to run back to the store. His lunch sack whipped around as his arms flung by his side. His dad stepped down onto the sidewalk to meet his son.

"Change your mind?"

Nick nodded as he leaned into his dad's side. He realized that he didn't want to walk through the city alone, as much as he once thought he did. His dad chuckled, amused by his son's innocent demeanor.

"Well, how about we walk together."

Putting his paw onto his son's shoulder, Nick's father began to guide him back toward the corner. The two of them walked together in silence. Fresh sunlight poured onto the neighborhood streets as the sun climbed up the city skyline. The air was nice and crisp, filled with the comforting scents of the early morning semblance. The world around them awakened, blossoming into life.

Nick held onto his father's paw as they made their way north, and he wouldn't let go until he stepped into the schoolbus.

* * *

 


	12. The Ones We Call Our Friends

 

* * *

_Saturday, April 2nd. 12:31 PM_

The lunchroom was occupied by a large number of predators. A sea of voices flowed through the cafeteria, with their waves crashing against the concrete walls. Guards stood on catwalks that lined the perimeter of the space, watching our every move. I had one mission; I needed to talk with Lupus.

The rail-yards were a complex of train tracks and warehouses that snaked along the west coast of Happytown. Being one of the largest hubs for importing and exporting, the Happytown rail yards were largely important to everyone that lived in and around the district. Security was overly excessive. Each shipment being sent out was closely checked by guards. A tall, barb wired fence ran around the perimeter with watch towers at every corner. Boats constantly patrolled the waters outside of the complex, and trucks made their ways through the industrial streets, ensuring that nobody was stepping out of line. The whole place seemed more like a prison, but instead of breaking out, we were going to try to break in… and then out again.

My tray was set onto the railing above. The cafeteria's bar was over four feet tall, and I had to reach up over my head to slide my tray. I waddled sideways as the cooks began plop food onto my tray; I couldn't even see what I was getting. The railing ended and I lifted my tray down.

Cheddar and broccoli soup with mashed potatoes and a biscuit.

I turned to face the crowd. Predators much bigger than me sat on aluminum tables as they conversed with one another. I looked for Lupus. Even though I haven't once seen him personally, I knew that he worked in the same building as I, so he had to have had lunch at the same time. I began to walk down the aisles.

The predators towered over me, even when they were sitting. I felt like a little kid, like an antisocial middle schooler on his first day. It was rather intimidating, but I needed to stay calm and collected.

"You lost little dude!?"

"Hey, watch your step everyone, don't want to squish Mr. Suit and Tie here!"

"Are they just hiring anyone now?!"

I sighed at the crude comments. Out of all the predators in Zootopia, foxes were on the smaller end of the height spectrum. Even though I was rather sizable compared to others predators like Finnick, only tall and strong brutes worked at the rail-yards, making me seem puny. I laughed at the thought; if Finnick was here, he would already be in an all-out brawl.

I couldn't find Lupus. I walked up and down the aisles, ignoring the isolated insults thrown my way. My soup was getting cold, and I needed a place to sit. I found a table with a few open seats and made my way toward it.

I sat on the end furthest away from the other workers and rested my head on the elevated surface. It had already been a long day.

I filled out my resume on Friday, and my job started the next day. Being too small to do any heavy lifting, I was put into the labeling offices. You'd think that sticking labels onto boxes and crates would be easy, but that was far from the truth.

A conveyor belt slowly carried the cargo by, and I had to place the labels onto them before they passed along to the next station. A bright red button was placed where I sat, enabling me to stop the conveyor belt in case I couldn't keep up with the moving boxes. At first, the job was fairly simple. Boxes would arrive in separate shipments, and I could easily put the same stickers onto them without breaking a sweat. However as the day went on, more imports arrived, and the job became excruciatingly difficult. Shipments would come all at once, and different crates from different distributors started to pass by at the same time. I had to identify and label each box individually, which was incredibly overwhelming. Every time I pressed the red button, other members of the assembly line would shout at me, demanding me to keep up; this only furthered the suffering. By lunch break, I ended up pressing the red button over 20 times.

"Fox."

I lifted my head off the table and began to look around. I wasn't sure who had said it. I glanced over at the other predators around me. Two wolves sat across from each other on the other end of the table. Sitting diagonally from me, a large, overweight black bear took up half the bench across from me.

He was staring straight at me.

"Biscuit."

I looked at the food that was on my tray. What was he saying about my biscuit? I wasn't sure how else to respond. The two wolves were caught up in their discussion, but the black bear kept staring at me.

"Give."

The bear spoke in an extremely low pitch. His voice was slurred by his indistinguishable accent. His collar was hidden beneath a layer of neck-fat. The bear was a little chubby, but he also looked very strong.

He wanted my biscuit. I looked over at the bear's tray. He had seven of them, most likely taken from other workers. The others that sat next to him didn't have any on their trays, and I was pretty sure that neither of them had eaten them. What was this guy's deal with biscuits? The wolf sitting next to him noticed that he was talking to me. He looked up at the huge bear and then over toward me. I responded cautiously.

"You… Want my biscuit?"

The bear outstretched his paw over the table with his palm facing up, expecting me to unwillingly drop my biscuit into it. I looked back at the wolf. He was getting a kick out of my confused reaction. The worker sitting across from him also took notice, and the three of them stared at me and my biscuit, waiting for my response.

The bear couldn't do anything, right? I mean, we were all in a heavily populated cafeteria under constant surveillance by the watchful eyes of armed guards. He couldn't hurt me, could he? I was starving, and he wasn't getting my biscuit.

I smirked.

"And what if I don't give it to you?"

The wolves quickly looked up to the bear, excitedly anticipating his response. The bear took his his outstretched paw and raised up, pointing his index finger up.

"First. I kill you. — Second. I eat you. — Three. I eat biscuit."

His broken accent was rather intimating. The other wolves struggled to conceal their laughter. My sudden confidence was snuffed out, and my ears began to droop. He lowered his paw down next to my tray again, expecting me to give him my biscuit. The wolf sitting next to him looked back over to me.

"... I think you should do what he says."

His voice was filled with amusement, but he seemed quite serious. The bear's outstretched paw was bigger than the size of my head. Even if there were guards here, he could still crush my skull with one foul swoop. I looked away as I gave him my biscuit. I could hear the two wolves chuckle before continuing on with their conversation.

The lunchroom reminded me of the ones you see at prisons. The grey, concrete walls; the buzzing of the bright, lithium lights bulbs; the continuous monitorization of officers; the smells of body odor and sweat; I wanted to be anywhere but here. I rested my head down and closed my eyes, trying to drown out the bombardment of voices that crammed into my ears. Honey was probably sitting by the water or taking Claire out on the kayak. I felt bad for the other predators who had to do this everyday; working was hell.

_"No, no, I'm telling you man…!"_

I could detect an individual voice getting closer. My eyes remained closed as the voices and laughter grew louder.

_"I'm just saying— look, hear me out."_

I heard the clanking of trays against the table around my head. My ears were overly sensitive to the noises as I continued to rest my head on the table's surface. The newly arrived conversation was broken up by uncontrollable laughter.

"I'm just saying! Bunnies have the most idiotic last names!"

I looked up. Four new workers were around me at the table. A hyena sat to the left of me, struggling to contain his sudden bursts of laughter. Across from him, a small yet stocky wolverine was seated next to the biscuit-taking black bear. To the right of him, a snow leopard tried to carry on his argument about last names. Sitting across from me, a lean grey wolf listened to the conversation while staring down at his food. Each of them seemed to be in their thirties. I glanced momentarily at each of them, my attention was pulled in by the wolf across from me. I had seen him before, his face, his appearance, it was familiar.

It was Lupus.

The leopard continued.

"Who was that banker? The one from the Burrows? What was his— oh! Hopper Enterprises! His last name was _Hopper_!"

The hyena and wolverine joined in with the leopard's laughter. Lupus continued to only smile, still staring down to his tray. The hyena next to me came to a sudden realization.

"OH! I get it! Because bunnies _hop_!"

His laughter only intensified as the other two stared at him with somewhat-annoyed expressions. The leopard sighed and crossed his arms.

"You know Ben, you're awfully slow for a hyena."

The hyena couldn't respond. He was too busy laughing hysterically. He slammed his paws onto the table, trying to keep himself from falling off the bench. The wolverine perked up trying to come up with another name.

"How about that asshole from the oil company? Got rich off the stock market? The millionaire… ah— _What was his name?"_

 _Stocks._ A face appeared in my head. The laughing, the evil smile, it all resurfaced in my mind as if it happened yesterday. I remember it vividly.

"You mean Pattington?"

" _Pattington_! Yes— that was him!"

The hyena continued to laugh, and the wolverine joined in. The snow leopard looked back over to me with his arms folded, eyeing me down. When they got to the table, not one of them seemed to have noticed my presence. It appeared that the leopard _wanted_ it that way. His demeanor went from lighthearted bliss to judgemental ridicule. I felt awkward, and I tried to ignore his rude attitude. After all, he wasn't the reason why I was here.

I looked over to Lupus. He was still staring down toward his soup, and I realized that I haven't even touched mine since I had sat down.

"You new?"

I glanced back over toward the leopard. His voice was hard and inquisitive. Lupus looked up at me momentarily before returning his gaze back to the tray. The other two were starting to calm down from their fits of laughter. My response was brief.

"First day."

I tried to avoid the leopard's piercing stare as I began to eat my cold soup. It tasted horrendous. Honey has had soup cans stored in her bunker for over three years, and that stuff was far better than what they were serving here. I looked at the other worker's trays. Not one of them dared to even touch their bowls of soup, and for good reason.

The leopard finally averted his attention away from me, turning back toward the hyena and the wolverine. He chuckled to himself and began to smirk, speaking in a sarcastic tone.

"Pattington huh? Must be a real nice fella."

I decided to speak up.

"Oh he is. Believe me."

The leopard turned back to me and scoffed, clearly annoyed by my unnecessary comment. I managed to catch Lupus' attention by my remark. I could see him look up at me out of the corner of my eye. The leopard, however, didn't like what I had to say.

"What? And you _know_ the guy?"

"No, but I punched him in the face once."

I had aimed my response toward the leopard, but the wolverine sitting next to him had overheard me.

 _"Woah, Woah, Woah!_ —I wanna hear this guy's story!"

And at that, the conversation started. I recounted in detail the events of that day, from the moment he called me out, to the moment the officers dragged me into the medical tent. The snow leopard didn't participate as much in the discussion, but each of the other workers listened attentively, enjoying my long and unrelenting rant about that asshole jackrabbit. Eventually, the conversation began to shift from one unrelated topic to another, and I continued to share my relevant inputs and opinions. Jokes were told, and lighthearted arguments were passably debated. Slowly, the leopard began to talk more with the other workers. His initial attitude toward me began to disappear as he joined the ongoing discussion. At one point, we shared each other's names, and I began to tell them a little more about myself.

I occasionally glanced over at Lupus, who remained quiet for the duration of the lunch break. However, whenever I spoke, he seemed to avert his attention toward me more often than he did for the other workers while they talked.

Lupus was fairly short for a grey wolf. He had a small, yet burly physique. It was obvious that he did much of the heavy lifting at the loading terminals. Despite his intimidating stature, Lupus appeared to be a very timid predator. He rarely spoke. The only time that he did was to tell me his name, the one thing that I already knew about him.

Before long, a loud bell began to ring, signalling for the end of the lunch period. At once, all of the workers in the large cafeteria rose from their seats and headed down the aisles to dispose of their trays. The five of us followed suit, forming two single file lines at either side of the row of tables.

"Hey Nick!"

I looked over to the other side of the table we were passing. Caesar, the snow leopard, was the one who had called my name. He dragged the bottom of his tray along the table's surface as we got closer to the disposal bins.

"The four of us were planning on heading out to the tavern after our shifts. We were wondering if you cared to join us. I think you'd like it there."

The invitation came out of nowhere. At first, it was clear that he didn't like me, but it appeared that he had a change of heart. His voice was kind and welcoming, and his invitation sounded genuine.

I thought for a minute. Honey was expecting me to be home before dusk, and I wasn't too keen on going out for a drink, especially during times like these. I didn't drink often, and when I did, I only went with mammals I trusted, like Finnick or Honey.

However, I had a job to fulfill; I needed to get more in touch with Lupus. I would possibly be able to have an actual conversation with the shy wolf. I glanced toward him. He walked in front of the snow leopard, silently returning my gaze as he anticipated for my response. I looked ahead. The back wall of the lunchroom was only a few feet away, and I had to make up my mind.

"Yah! Sure— I'll go."

We got to the garbage cans and dumped our leftover food. I realized that I had barely eaten at all, too busy conversing with the coworkers at my table.

"Sounds good! Meet us by the Sprigg Street entrance at six!"

"Will do."

The lines dispersed as we set out trays down near the industrial sized kitchen. Dish washers were already scrubbing down empty plates as they struggled to keep up with the overwhelming amount of dirty trays to clean. I headed toward the labeling offices.

I had answered impulsively and without much thought. I wasn't sure if I'd regret my sudden decision, but I needed to become friends with them. Besides, it's been a long couple of weeks, maybe I needed a drink.

* * *

_Saturday, April 2nd. 6:17 PM_

I walked out into the late afternoon sun as I made my way for the designated entrance. The gravel crunched beneath my feet as I walked through the empty lot. Predators dispersed in different directions as they made their way home. I approached the entrance.

A tall, barbed wire fence lined the perimeter of complex. Watch towers surveyed the area, preparing their spotlights for the night. Part of me wondered how we were even going to break into the fortress.

I saw three of them near the entrance. Bennett the hyena, Tony the wolverine, and Lupus stood up against the tall fence. Shortly after I joined them, Caesar arrived with five small plastic cards. He held them up, waving them around with his paw

"Had to get a new one made for our new friend here!"

I looked at the cards; they were about the size of our IDs. I wasn't sure what they were for, or why I needed one.

"What are those for?"

Caesar was already handing out the cards to each of the workers, giving me the last one.

"Overtime Permits. They allow us to walk around past our curfew. Workers who get the late shifts are given these so they don't get buzzed by the police on their way home."

I glanced down at my card. My name was engraved into the top right corner. Below it, the address of the railyard was placed, along with other information about the workplace.

"We don't have any late shifts though."

Caesar only smiled, placing his index finger onto his mouth. The other three were already pocketing their permits.

"It's a flawed system, my friend."

Something was off, but I couldn't put my finger on it. I was skeptical, but it appeared that the four of them had done this before. I put my card in my wallet next to my ID, and the five of us began to head north. I tried to subdue my myriad of doubts as we made our way to the bar.

The Cloven was a small tavern on the north side of the district. The bar was discretely built within the complex of apartments and stores. Sunken into the basement of an old condo, the entrance was only visible from a small section of the nearby alleyways. Buildings towered over us, protecting the bar from aerial surveillance. A small ocelot was on a large crate just outside of the entrance. She sat on a small lawn chair knitting a miniature sweater. Caesar was the first to speak.

"Maggie! It's great to see you!"

The cat glanced down at us, continuing to knit with her focus on us. Recognizing the group in front of her, she smiled genuinely.

"Oh! Well isn't it Caesar and the gang!"

Her voice was rough and raspy. She seemed to be in her fifties. I found it odd that a small jungle cat guarded the entrance to a bar.

"Oh! And who do we have here?"

The ocelot shifted her attention toward me. The four others appeared to be regulars at the bar, but to her, I was a stranger. Caesar answered for me.

"We're just showing our friend Nick here a good time."

The cat looked back at me once more before returning her focus back to her knitting.

"Well isn't that nice! I've never seen a fox in a suit before… BORK!"

I was startled by her alarming yell. Suddenly, a massive polar bear emerged from the staircase below. The ocelot wasn't guarding the front door… he was.

"BORK! LEAD THESE KIND GENTLEMEN INSIDE PLEASE!"

The ocelot was yelling far louder than she needed to. I noticed that no one else seemed to care about her screams. She turned back toward me momentarily to answer my unasked questions.

"Bork has a bit of a… hearing issue."

The polar bear towered over us. He was probably twice the size of Koslov. He looked down at the five of us and turned around, slowly making his way down the staircase toward the door. We followed the bear, making our way down each large step.

"You guys have fun now!"

We all nodded and waved back at the ocelot before entering the pub.

The Cloven Taverns were a chain of bars that were open throughout Zootopia. I had seen a couple of them around town, and I heard about them after Koslov went on a rant about his business's competition. The establishment was founded by a family of sheep that moved in from the Eastern hemisphere some 600 years ago. With them, they brought a legacy crime along with their infamous brews of beer. Honey told me that the founders were involved in some kind of sheep mafia. Clovens were often filled with sketchy mammals, and usually served as safe houses for rival gangs throughout the city. With that in mind, I usually avoided them.

Now that the confinement zones were set up, many bars and taverns were no longer in business. Alcohol imports were heavily taxed, and most of the bars in the area ran out of their supply. Those who could supply themselves or could afford the hefty price continued to stay open.

The Cloven was dimly lit, illuminated by the blue and green hues of flickering neon lights. The place had the overwhelming stench of cigarette smoke and chewing tobacco. Bars usually had TV's for mammals to watch, but now, the television set was unplugged. No one wanted to think about going savage, and that's all that the news channels talk about these days. Instead, a stereo sat in the corner, playing a wide variety of different music genres.

The tavern was occupied by mainly Division 3 predators, however, I spotted a few 1s and 2s who worked at the railyard complex. Caesar jumped in front of the four of us.

"Welp! Let's get right to it!"

He appeared to be a little too excited to begin the drinking session. The snow leopard enthusiastically led the four of us to the bar stools near the back, and after that, the night seemed to fly by.

* * *

_Saturday, April 2nd. 10:42 PM_

The night was filled with slurred conversations and the taste of ice cold beer. I had three drinks, which was plenty enough for me. I sat at the bar with Caesar, Bennett, and Tony. The four of us continued a few of our unfinished conversations from earlier today as we drank. Caesar was excessively interested in what I had to say, interrupting the other two in order to listen to me. I could sense that he felt bad about acting the way he did when we first initially met, and he now wanted me to feel included. Topics fluctuated wildly as our short term memories found new things to talk about.

Cups of beer were eventually replaced by glasses of water, but the fun didn't end. I was the first to stop, settling at three drinks. Caesar pressured me into drinking more, but I didn't give in. Then, it was Caesar himself who decided to stop, settling at five beers. However, Bennett and Tony made it a competition to see who could drink the most. I watched as the two of them consumed a total of 19 beers. The contest ended up concluding without a winner; the two of them had lost count after their 8th or 9th drinks. Caesar didn't tell them what the scores were, fearing that the competition would turn from _Who could drink the most? —_ to _Who can get alcohol poisoning the fastest?_

Lupus didn't drink. That fact seemed to be known by the other three; they didn't pressure him into having one. Instead, he sat at a booth by himself. I was so initially caught up in our alcohol-influenced conversations that I didn't even notice his absence. As the night continued on, both the drinking and the conversing subsided, and I began to occasionally glance back at him, sitting by himself at the booth in the corner.

Now, the sober parts of my brain began to ridicule me.

_What am I doing?_

I had come here to talk with Lupus, to make friends with him. That was the reason why I was here. That was the reason why I was staying out past curfew, not to get drunk with predators that I had just met.

_What the fuck am I doing?_

I stood up and made my way to the booth. Caesar had his head on the counter, not acknowledging my sudden departure. Bennett and Tony were too busy discussing something about women's clothing, but I could tell that they were getting tired too. I reached the booth where Lupus sat. He sat idly with an empty glass of water. He played with his straw, stirring and knocking around the melting ice cubes. He didn't acknowledge my presence as I sat down in the the seat across from him.

At first, we sat in silence. My slightly intoxicated mind searched for a proper way to start the conversation. I just now realized how tired I actually was. I decided to initiate the conversation with the best introduction I could think of...

"Hey."

He looked up from his frozen gaze, eyeing me down. He had an intimidating stature, but his dark, brown eyes were soft and sunken in. He could probably beat the daylights out of anyone, but that seemed to be the last thing that he thought about doing. He nodded slightly.

"Hi."

His voice was soft and scratchy, perfectly matching his timid complexion. He said a word. This was a start.

"So uh—… How've you been?"

"Good."

"Ah."

I realized that I had nothing in particular to talk about with him. I should have thought of interesting topics before I walked over, but now, I was sitting across from him at the table, unsure of what to say or do. I searched for something to talk about.

"So… What did you do before all of this?"

He glanced up again from his empty cup. I already knew what the answer was, but I needed to act like I didn't. He cleared his throat and replied quickly.

"Worked at the rail-yards for a couple years now. Other three came when that law was passed."

His statements were brief and to the point. I looked over at the three of them. Bennett and Tony snickered as they continued to run low on energy. Caesar stood up from his stool and made his way to the restroom near the front. He appeared to be pissed off at something. I returned my gaze back to Lupus.

"How are they?"

He didn't answer at first, focusing on the ice cubes in front of him. He hesitated before talking about them. Lupus acted like he didn't want to talk about them, however, he eventually mustered up a response.

"Ben is a real treat. Nice guy, really, just a little weird."

I looked over at the two of them. Tony and Ben were snickering to themselves as they both leaned tiredly against the counter. It was clear that we were all feeling the same amounts of exhaustion. Lupus continued.

"Tony— well he can be a real ass-kisser at times. Caesar's second hand man, Caesar tells him what to do and he'll do it without asking. But he's alright; good intentions for the most part."

"And Caesar?"

He saved Caesar for the last, and it seemed that he wanted to talk about him the least. Lupus sighed and looked back down at his drink.

"That guy— he's the nicest predator you'll ever meet… as long as you're on his good side. He can be a one hell of a douchebag to mammals he doesn't like."

"And does he like me?"

Lupus smirked as he looked back up at me.

"He invited you to drink with us. I'd say so."

I was relieved to hear that. If I was going to be friends with Lupus, I needed to be friends with _his_ friends as well. I remembered the way Caesar looked at me when I first spoke up during lunch. He seemed a little pissed off at first, but apparently, I was on his good side before the hour was over; he seemed really excited to bring me with him to the bar.

"How about you?"

Lupus was the one to ask the question. I wasn't sure what he meant.

"What about me?"

"What'd you do…. you know, before working at the rail-yards?"

It seemed that Lupus was getting comfortable enough to talk more. His soft and scratchy mumbles were amplified to a normal speaking level. I thought for a minute, I didn't have any _real_ jobs before this.

"I uh— did some jobs for some guys..."

I came to a sudden realization. I had nearly forgotten that Lupus had once worked with the Koroli. I responded with a nonchalant tone.

"... I— uhh… Worked for a gang for a while."

"... A— a gang?"

My purposely hinted statement caught his attention. I couldn't tell him that I knew about his past; he wouldn't like that. I needed to act like I didn't know a thing about him. I answered nonchalantly.

"... Yah, like the _Koroli_."

His ears perked up, and I knew that something clicked with him. The familiar name of his former gang bounced around his head as he went deep into thought. Lupus went into hiding after being hunted down by a rival gang, and I could tell that he was conflicted about bringing up the subject. It looked like he wanted to tell me something, but he held back.

We both went quiet for a bit. The song on the old stereo changed, switching to a slower paced jazz tune. The lingering stench of tobacco smoke seemed to radiate off of the walls. I had long gotten used to the familiar smell. I leaned back against the plush cushion of the small booth. The back of the seat extended past over my head to accommodate mammals of all sizes.

Caesar walked out of the bathroom and took a seat next to Lupus. The three of us all appeared to be as equally exhausted. Ben and Tony's conversation had quieted down. Their loud hollering diminished into quiet rambling. Caesar was the first to break the silence.

"What a night huh?"

I thought about what Lupus had said about him. It seemed that I was on his good side, which meant that getting to know Lupus would be a lot easier. Caesar continued.

"You know Nick, I had my suspicions at first, but I'm really starting to like you now."

Caesar let out an alcohol-driven chuckle. I smiled and nodded. It was only natural for other mammals to be suspicious, being a fox has that effect on strangers.

"No but really, you're a good kid."

Although he was drunk, his compliment was sincere. Tonight was a relief. Honey would probably get on to me about staying out so late, but it was worth it.

"Drinks are on me tonight… Well— for you two at least… I'm not paying for those two bozos at the counter."

After many more moments, other predators began to file out of the pub, and I had the sense that we were going to leave soon. Lupus and I sat quietly as Caesar began to laugh to himself.

"I wonder how nice _their_ mornings are gonna be."

His voice was weak and shaky. He was referring to Ben and Tony. They had far too much to drink tonight, and tomorrow, they would be bedridden with head-piercing hangovers.

"I should probably take them home before the pass out on the fucking floor."

I glanced over towards the two. Their drowsiness had seemed to triple in less than a minute. They both drooped their heads over the counter as they struggled to carry on their unending conversation.

"And I guess you two should head out also."

Lupus nodded as he pulled out his wallet to leave a tip. I followed suit, placing a single foodstamp on the table's surface. Restaurants didn't necessarily need foodstamps to buy food rations, however, they could use them to purchase ingredients and other supplies from nearby vendors.

As we got up, I started to feel nervous. I had never been out in the streets past curfew.

"So… What do we do when we get stopped by officers?"

Caesar rubbed his eyes as he searched for the answer. He had to have been stopped before, and tonight, I needed his experience.

"Just act cool. Remember, we're not breaking any laws, just bending them. Answer the questions they ask you. Don't do anything illegal. Don't be stupid."

He made it sound easy. Maybe I was stressing out a little too much. Caesar called for the two at the counter and we all headed out the door.

* * *

_Saturday, April 2nd. 11:32 PM_

The streets were filled with the a tense silence. Lupus and I walked through the dark city streets as we made our way to our homes. The moon was smothered by the ocean of clouds that hovered above us, the isolated street lamps being the our only source of light. I checked multiple times to see if I still had my permit with me at the bar, but now, I wasn't too worried. I had Lupus with me, and he had done this before. However, I wasn't too sure how long he would walk with me until we would part ways.

"So where do you live?"

I looked up the wolf. Lupus was looking straight ahead toward where we were walking.

"511 South Water street. Whole place is flooded now."

Water street ran along the west coast of Happytown. The road ran south into the Grotto, but I wasn't sure where his house was in relation to mine. The good news was that they were nearby, meaning that we would be together for a while. I was significantly less nervous than before. I was very skeptical about going with the group, by I'm happy that I did. I made new acquaintances, and now, I knew Lupus.

I wanted to talk about the secret. I wanted to tell him about the plan to escape, but I couldn't. The collars around our necks tracked and monitored our every move, and it wouldn't be long until the officers would arrive, asking for our overtime permits. I decided to carry on the conversation.

"You got a boat?"

I could hear Lupus snicker next to me as we walked in the dark. His voice was still quiet and strained.

"Course I have a boat. How else would I get to my house?"

"Swimming."

"Preds do that?"

"Where I'm from. Yah."

It was true. The Grotto was home to some of the poorest of the poor. Preds often made makeshift boats out of scavenged supplies. Many were simply unable to afford a canoe.

We crossed through an intersection as we continued to travel south. We passed by the rail-yards; we were roughly ten minutes away from the southern neighborhoods of Happytown. We were walking by an old brick warehouse when Lupus spoke up.

"And you’re headed where?"

"Grotto."

"Huh. Not too far from my place."

I could hear the wheels of a truck slide against the gravel pavement behind us. The squeaks of the brakes pierced the silent air of the dark night. I had the feeling that we were being watched. Lupus sighed.

"Get your cards ready."

Lupus had told me to put my ID and permit in my back pocket. That way, we could easily swipe them out when the time came…

Suddenly, a bright spotlight shone blindingly from behind. Our shadows crawled up the pavement in front of us. A megaphone began to crackle.

"DISTRICT POLICE. PUT YOUR PAWS IN THE AIR."

Lupus and I obliged. I looked over to him, he didn't seem too nervous, and so I knew that I shouldn't have been either.

"WALK OVER TO THE SIDEWALK AND PUT YOUR PAWS ON THE WALL."

The demanding voice was stern and intimidating. Lupus and I turned to face the warehouse and walked slowly toward the wall. Lupus talked under his breath.

"Just do what they say. Let me do the talk—"

"SHUT UP."

The spotlight followed us as we reached the brick wall. Lupus stood to my left between me and the truck. I looked behind him, only to be blinded by the bright, halogen light. I heard a car door slam as somebody approached the two of us.

A large bison walked up from behind us. Along with him, a couple warthogs approached from the truck.

"Let's see some IDs and OPs right now!"

His voice was gruff and low pitched. I looked over to Lupus as he got his cards out, and I followed suit, reaching into my back pocket. We each held them out, and one of the boars took both of them and ran toward the truck. The buffalo began his interrogating, and Lupus answered the questions.

"Do you have any weapons on you?"

"No sir."

"No drugs? Nothing illegal?"

"No sir."

"What about Mr. Tuxedo over here?"

The two of them looked at me. I wasn't wearing a tuxedo, I was wearing a suit. There was a clear and distinct difference. I stuttered with my response.

"Oh uh— No sir."

There was a pause for a moment as the bison eyes us down.

"Check them."

At once, two warthogs began to pat us down, feeling around our pockets and midsection. The bison continued to ask questions as we were being searched.

"Where are you guys going?"

Lupus continued to answer his questions as we remained facing the wall.

"Our homes, sir."

One of the warthogs took my wallet out from my pocket, and after searching through it, tossed it onto the ground.

"Where do you live?"

"South Water."

"And what about you?"

Again, the bison aimed his direction towards me. I was faster to respond this time.

"The Grotto."

"... And why do I smell beer?"

The two of us paused as the officers completed their search. As long as we didn't _go_ to the bar during curfew, then we weren't breaking any laws. Nevertheless, the officer might have not liked the answer. Luckily, he didn't get one.

"Sir! Come over here!"

The bison turned back to the warthog next to the truck. The officer who had taken our cards was waving over at us. He looked back at Lupus and I, sighing angrily.

"Watch these two!"

The warthog that had searched us pulled out their collar remotes, aiming them right at our necks. The bison strutted over to the truck, and I was unable to see what he was doing due to the blinding luminance of the overhead spotlight. I looked over to Lupus. His head trembled as he firmly pressed it against the wall...

He was nervous.

"Is something wrong?"

He looked down at me as he tilted his head slightly. His voice was quiet and shaky.

"I don't—"

Suddenly, both of our collars gave off an alarming, high-pitched noise. At once, the devices began to buzz as we were jolting us out of our conversation. The brief shock stung at my neck. I looked over at Lupus' collar; the usually green light had turned yellow, blinking rapidly. One of the officers behind us yelled out.

"No talking!"

I faced the wall again. Something was wrong. The bison was called over to the truck, and by Lupus' reaction, that wasn't normal. I began to sweat as I looked down at my feet. All was silent, and I began to listen to the sound of my racing heartbeat.

After what seemed like an eternity, the bison came back.

He walked in silence as he got behind us. It was him, the two officers, and Lupus and I. The five of us stood in a thick and uncomfortable silence.

"Mr. Wilde?"

My thoughts froze upon hearing my last name. I was paralyzed with fear, and the sweat that soaked up my fur had turned ice cold. I heard Lupus' body shift as his head turned to face me. I struggled to make my response.

"... Ye— Yes sir?"

"Will you agree, that for now on, you will tell me the truth."

It was a horrifyingly odd question. What did I do wrong? Was it something I said? Was it something with my card? My voice was croaked up.

"Yes sir."

I remained staring at the brick wall in front of me, too frightened to turn around. I could hear the smug smirking of the police officer behind me. The gravel beneath his feet crunched and crumbled as he stepped onto the sidewalk next to one of the warthogs. He paused, and yet again, the air around us was claustrophobically quiet. A high-pitched tone broke the silence.

"Good."

My collar sent volts of electricity through my body as it began to send waves of pain into my neck and down my spine. My muscles contracted violently and uncontrollably as I knelt onto the sidewalk.

"Get up. Get up!"

The shocking had stopped. I gasped for air as I pulled myself up the wall.

"First question... Do you think I'm stupid?"

That was the question? What kind of question was that?

"No sir."

The high-pitched ringing pierced the air again, and my neck exploded with another wave of extreme pain. The brick wall flashed before my eyes as my body lost all control. The blinding spotlight bore through my eyeballs and into my throbbing head. The ringing in my ears muffled out the sounds of the screaming police officer.

"Get up! NOW!"

My arms flung out to touch the wall. My muscles were on fire. I dragged my feet underneath me as I slowly climbed up the brick facade. My bones felt hollow, and my skull felt empty.

"WHAT DID I SAY? NO LYING!"

That wasn't a lie. That was the truth. _What was I supposed to do? Say yes?_ I was horrified and disoriented. I saw the Lupus' face floating within my eyesight. He was utterly scared.

"LET'S TRY THIS AGAIN."

The bison's cold, rugged yelling penetrated my weak eardrums. My senses were a mix between dysfunctional and overly sensitive.

"DO YOU THINK I AM STUPID?!"

I was completely confused and utterly frightened. I don't know how to respond. I have know idea what to say. I agreed to tell the truth, and so that's what I did.

"...no."

The high-pitched squeals from my collar wailed out again. My body instinctively clenched, and my skin was pierced by millions of hot knives. My eyesight failed me, and my muscles were frying from the inside out. The world seemed to be on fire, and I was drowning in the scorching flames. My body spasmed and contorted. My skin felt like it was being ripped off of my body. My head connected violently with the pavement. My ears could barely make out the loud screams of the officer.

"BULLSHIT! YOU THINK I'M STUPID HUH? YOU THINK I'M A FUCKING IDIOT! GET THE FUCK UP!"

My body had quadrupled in weight. My limp arms and legs refused to be lifted. I dragged myself against the wall. The world was spinning at an alarming rate. The wall seemed to tilt and shift as I struggled to pull myself up.

"DON'T HELP HIM UP!"

The high-pitched ringing went off again, and I dropped to the sidewalk as I prepared for the shock. It never came. The ringing had belonged to Lupus' collar. I heard his muffled screams momentarily before his body dropped down beside mine.

"BOTH OF YOU UP! _NOW!_ "

Uninterruptible thoughts whizzed through my head. _What did I do? What on earth did I do?_ My body felt like it was melting onto the concrete. I heard Lupus' paws pound against the wall has he got up. I was still lying on the sidewalk.

"NOW!"

I felt my chest explode in a bombardment of excruciating pain. I watched the bison's hoof bring itself away from my limp body. Unwanted tears dripped onto my face, burning and stinging my sensitive skin. The noises around me mixed into a sea of convoluted echoes.

"COME ON!"

I flung my body onto my stomach. My side was spewing with unfathomable agony. I dug my arms beneath my frail body and lifted myself up. I forced my knees to slide underneath me as I leaned myself up against the brick wall. The constant yells trapped themselves within the walls of my cooked skull. I tried to shove myself up the wall. My muscles felt like they were being torn off of my scorched bones. My body screamed, telling me to stop. I didn't listen. I pulled myself up onto my feet, hugging the wall in front of me. My skin felt like it was starting to drip off of my body, and my head felt like it was about to explode. I wasn't sure how long I would be able to stand.

"One more question!"

The bison's voice sounded distant. I couldn't see Lupus even though I was staring right at him. The world was slowly fading away.

"Where did you get this fraudulent OP?"

It made sense. My mind was clear again. The realizations jabbed at my head in an overwhelming episode of revelation. It was the reason why I was about to pass out; the reason why I was being shocked; it was what I did wrong.

Two clear, distinguishable thoughts accumulated in crumbling mind. First, Caesar had given me a fake OP. The second thought struck me with another wave of realization; it was why the former thought was true…

I am not on Caesar's good side, and I never was.

My body slipped, and my legs gave out. The sky above me transcended into my clouded mind as I collapsed. The world around me faded into an unobservable realm of nothingness. The ground beneath me had vanished, and I instead plummeted into the endless void of my subconscious.

* * *

 


	13. Night Moves

 

* * *

Individual recollections cycled through my head as I traveled aimlessly through the empty pits of my subconscious. My body was adrift, floating in an endless sea of black. My mind was aloft in a state of pure obscurity. Space and time were merely nonexistent, unobtainable from the amaranthine depths of my mind. My brain struggled to piece together the distorted and incognizable events that took place after my troubling ordeal. My senses regained their composure only somewhat, filling my mind with incomprehensible information.

First, it was the thunder.

The rumbling shook the ground with painful vibrations. The grumbles of the muted sky above came from every direction. However, the noises sounded distant, as if there was some type barrier that hovered between us; a protective roof over my head. The sounds of the heavy rainfall filtered their way into my ears. The sonance was loud and consistent, covering the dark world around me with a blanket of white noise. The rain did not touch me, striking against an unseen force field that protected my body from the heavens above.

Then, it was the television.

The muffled and indistinguishable sounds of the TV flooded in through the unseen doorway. Unidentifiable voices climbed into my head and replayed themselves in an endless cycle of confusion. Distinct, singular sounds seemed to tangle together, gluing themselves into one continuous stream of ambience. The buzzing of the television was quiet, yet penetrating. I listened idly, not to what the voices were saying, but to the sounds themselves. The constant cacophony traveled into the room like repeating waves, crashing against a nearby shoreline. The sounds seemed to soak into the walls around me, filling up my world with an ocean of unascertained noise.

Next, it was the light.

My eyes slowly began to absorb the soft, glimmering hues of light that came from the other room. A dark blue rectangle came into focus as I began to make out the outline of a doorframe. The room I was in was pitch black, only illuminated by the television set in the adjoining space. My vision was blurry and tunnel visioned. Eventually, I began to identify the slight shifting of colors as the TV switched from one image to another. I couldn't see the screen itself, so instead, I observed the space around it as faint colors poured in through the doorway. The room itself remained a dark blue, mixing in with the cycling shades of light that radiated from the television set.

And lastly, it was Lupus.

I could start to identify the wolf as my vision slowly came into focus. My eyes strained as I stared at him through the narrow doorway. Lupus sat on a small couch across from the unseen television in the small room. A brown, wooden coffee table concealed his knees and feet. He was sitting upright, fully engaged with whatever the TV was talking about. The more I stared, the more I could make out. At first, I could only see his grey outline, but soon enough, I began to analyze his facial features. He looked excessively concerned; his full attention was sucked in by the mammals on TV.

My mind began to numbly assemble vague, individual memories into a timeframe. Previous events began to fill up my head with a recountance of what happened.

My eyes first opened up to a dark, moonless sky. My body tossed and turned as I floated onward to an unknown destination. My thoughts, like now, were clouded and discombobulated. My body was frozen, and I was unable to move. With nothing else to do, I simply looked up. The faint glows of the hovering street lights passed over me as my body continued to move forward. I could hear the soft splashes of water on either side of me. I watched us tiny droplets flung up onto my skin, soaked in by my red, singed fur. I could smell the familiar scent of salt in the damp air around me.

I was in a boat.

I closed my eyes as another street light approached. I watched as the back of my eyelids lit up momentarily before the luminance of the streetlamp had fully passed. Opening my eyes again, I was greeted yet again to the darkness of the sky above. The neighborhood was dead quiet. I could hear the faint sounds of thunder as a distant storm approached. I began to feel drowsy again, and I started to squint my eyes. My thoughts ran rampantly around my exhausted mind as I continued to drift through the streets.

I looked to my right and left; the walls of the canoe met up above my head as it rested in the boat's stern. I glanced straight ahead, and I could see him. The silhouette of a wolf sat in front of me, rowing the small canoe. I could see only his outline as we neared the next street light. The isolated lamps were our only source of light as we traveled through the dark streets in silence. I wanted to speak, but my voice was completely gone, and it wore me out to try. My drowsiness soon got the best of me, and I tilted my head up as I drifted back into unconsciousness.

Now, I was sprawled out on a bed, staring at the one who had brought me here. My head was propped up against a pillow as I laid sideways. The left side of my lower chest was wrapped in gauze, and my neck was numbly cold. My head pounded, throbbing with each sluggish heartbeat.

Lupus had taken me to his house, and now, I was lying on his bed. I wasn't sure if it was out of kindness, or out of pity, but I didn't care. My body was getting tired, and I wasn't sure if I would slip into unconsciousness again. I continued to stare at Lupus as I listened to the raging storm outside. The ambient white noise of the constant rainfall slowly eased me into my slumber. I closed my eyes, and instead of the endless void of unconsciousness, it was the comforting grasp of sleep that I fell into.

* * *

"Nick."

The distant voice echoed through my head as I slowly began to wake up.

"Nick, get up."

The voice was soft and quiet, muted by the thick blanket of sleep that I was buried under. I started to climb out of my snooze, and my senses began to take control.

"Someone's here to see you."

The voice sounded vaguely familiar, scratchy and cracked by consistent lack of sleep. My thoughts began to circulate again, and at last, I managed to lift my heavy eyelids.

It was Tyler.

"Why hello there."

My eyes struggled to adjust to the brightness of the light above him. The flickering ceiling lamp lit up the small dormitory. I lifted my head up and looked around. The walls were painted a greyish blue. A heap of dirty clothes was piled in one corner of the room, while disorganized stacks of paper sat in the other. I was laying on an oversized bed, built for mammals of near-average height. The sheets next to my head were wet from a mix of drool and melted ice. The bed was placed along the back side of the room across from the narrow entryway. The door was closed, but I still recognized where I was.

I was in Lupus' bedroom.

I lifted my head even further, only to be struck by a wave of aching pain. My entire body was enveloped by extreme soreness. My chest was on fire. My neck had swollen greatly, and it was difficult to breathe. My throat was painfully dry, and my mind was averted to quenching my severe thirst. It was nearly impossible to speak.

"...wat— ...wahtur.."

Tyler recognized my request almost instantly and hurried out the door. I could tell that there were more mammals who occupied the small living room next to me. Faint, illegible conversations trickled into the room as Tyler got me my drink. A couple of the voices were somewhat recognizable, although my mind could not properly identify them.

Tyler swiftly walked back through the door, closing it behind him. He now had a glass bottle filled with water. He climbed onto the bed and crawled over to me. I struggled to lift my arm as I reached for the bottle. Tyler got closer to my head and tilted toward me. My nearly limp arm guided his as the water climbed up the glass container and reached my mouth. The liquid dripped onto my tongue and ran down my throat, inflaming it almost instantly. I began to cough violently. Tyler quickly pulled back the bottle and came to my aid.

"Are you sure you want this?"

I lifted my head up and down as my coughing fit continued. I didn't care if it hurt. Hell, I didn't care if it killed me– I needed that water.

"Here, let's sit you up."

Tyler hobbled over the far end of the mattress and grabbed a large pillow. He returned back to me and leaned it against the wall to my right.

"Come on, this will be better."

After the coughing had settled down, Tyler helped me sit upright. My body felt extremely tired, and I wanted to plop back down and fall asleep again. As I began to shift, my chest began to heat up in a hot, piercing pain. Tyler assisted me as I half crawled, half dragged myself to the pillow. The two foot journey took over a minute. I got to the wall, and twisting my body onto its side, collapsed back into the upright cushion.

Tyler repositioned the bottle up to my mouth once more. I lifted my weak arm again and tilted the bottle toward my face. Water began to drip into my stiff throat, this time causing less of a reaction. I tilted the bottle further, pouring most of the liquid into my mouth. The water tasted heavenly, despite the fact that it probably came from the kitchen faucet. The liquid filled my body with life, like a cool, refreshing stream pouring into a drought-ridden valley. I consumed every last drop. I had my mouth around the top of the container until I was sucking the air out it. Tyler pulled the empty bottle from my grasp.

I leaned back and gasped for air. I could feel the water as it began to replenish my body with much-needed strength. I wanted more, but I knew that too much too fast wasn't a good idea. The bottle was pretty big, and I had easily consumed over a pint in less than ten seconds. My throat was no longer dry, and I found it easier to speak.

"... what… what time is it?"

Tyler sat back and glanced at his watch. I could tell that it was either night or the early dawn. Even though the otter was usually active at around this time, right now, he seemed exhausted.

"4:37."

It was four in the morning, and by the way Tyler was acting, I didn't doubt him. I assumed that he knew where Lupus lived, but I had the feeling that the two of them hadn't met before; until tonight at least.

"... How'd you… Why're you here?"

Tyler's thought for a moment before replying. His response was broken up by isolated yawns.

"I got a call from Honey, like at… one in the morning. She was freaking out, saying that some wolf called and said you got hurt and was staying at his place. She asked me if I knew anyone… any doctors that could help. So I stayed up for like— _I don't know_ — two or three hours calling everyone I knew. Eventually, an old friend of mine said that his neighbor's wife was a nurse… and that she was willing to come over."

It was a lot to take in. Tyler's normally sharp mind seemed to be clouded with drowsiness as he continued.

"... And so I call her, the nurse, and she's all okay with coming over. And so I call Honey back, and she gives me the address that you were at so that I could tell the nurse where to find you… And then I tell the nurse to go to the house at four, and then I tell Honey to go to the house at four, and then I leave at four and now we're all here."

I could tell why Tyler seemed so exhausted. He had spent the entire night making phone calls with other predators. My thoughts shifted toward Honey. She was probably worried sick about me.

"... What about Honey…? Can I see her?"

Tyler began to get up from his seat beside me, grabbing the empty bottle next to him.

"After the nurse sees you. We shouldn't waste her time."

Tyler crawled over to the edge of the bed and hopped down. I leaned back into the pillow and yawned. The past twelve hours had been utterly exhausting both physically and mentally. I desperately wanted to go back to sleep, but before I knew it, the nurse was walking through the door.

The mink hopped onto the bed carrying a small medical pouch. She wore thick framed glasses and morning slippers. She was still in her pajamas. The mink seemed equally as tired.

"Well, let's get to work."

…

The mink brought out a clipboard and began to ask me a series of questions about my health. She first asked me about my medical history, like if I had any heart problems; _No_. If I had any previous surgeries to my brain; _No_. How many times I had been severely shocked; _16… Well, 17 now_. And other questions of the sorts.

She then continued to ask me about my current state. She asked me if I felt nauseous; _No_. If I had a headache; _Yes_. If it hurt to breathe; _Very much._ If I suffered from short term memory loss during the night; _I couldn't remember._ If I was earlier unconscious; _Most definitely._ Questions of that kind continued to be asked.

After she had completed her checklist, the mink moved on with basic tests. She asked me to do things like lift my arms and legs, wiggle my toes and fingers, follow her finger with my eyes without moving my head, and other similar tasks. She then went on to poke me in different spots along my arms and legs, asking me if I felt any pain. I felt discomfort for each and every poke and tap, some more irritating than others.

She concluded her examination by checking on my lower chest. After painfully removing the bandages, she began to check on the area where I was kicked. She asked me to breathe heavily, which I did not enjoy one bit. She pressed down on the tender spot, which hurt tremendously. She observed the injury with great care and delicatesy. After she was done, she wrapped my chest with more medical tape.

When she had concluded her checkup, the mink went through her documents one last time before leaving the room.

I sunk my head back and closed my eyes, however, the silence was short lived. The door squeaked back open, and this time, another mammal entered the room. I opened my eyes. Tyler was now with the two of us.

“Alright… Let's see…”

The crinkling papers flipped in her paws. I laid awkwardly on my side, gazing at the two of them with a glazed stare. Her voice was light and genuine.

“He doesn't seem to be showing any signs of internal bleeding, which is very good… —However, it appears that you've either broken or fractured your ribs in at least two places… He was— kicked in the stomach, right?”

“Yes.”

“—Well… The good news is that broken ribs usually heal themselves. I want him to ice the area and get plenty rest for the next week or so… Also, those bandages will help prevent movement when he breathes… It'll be uncomfortable, but it'll speed up the process.”

“Alright…”

The otter’s voice was drawn out by an exhausted yawn. He glanced over at me momentarily before speaking up again.

“...Anything else?”

“Well, he received a possible concussion and some burns on his neck, but neither of them require any more professional treatment…”

The mink walked backwards and reached for a fairly large backpack on the ground beside her.

“I'm gonna prescribe him a bottle of burn ointment and some painkillers for his ribs— The directions for taking them are on the bottle. Read them carefully… Also— Make sure he gets plenty of sleep and eats on a daily basis… Do you need any food-stamps?”

“No, we’ll be fine.”

“Alright… I suggest you shave the fur around the burns on his neck… It'll help the skin repair itself properly…”

The nurse pulled out a piece of paper, slowly giving it to the otter in front of her.

“His injuries should heal completely within the next two weeks… If anything happens or his condition gets worse, be sure to call me.”

Tyler stared down at the nurse’s instructions, scanning over the paper’s contents with a focused glare. Several seconds passed before he responded…

…

…

…

“Hey— can we… can we talk outside for a minute?”

I pulled my eyes toward the mink. She paused hesitantly, but after a few short moments, she answered with a nod.

“Sure.”

The two of them quickly exited the room.

…

The rest of the morning went on as one continuous blur. Sleepiness overcame my body, smothering out my senses. Vague and unclear visions were displayed in the back of my half-conscious mind. At one point, I was picked up from the bed and taken outside. I remember seeing the early morning sunlight as it bathed us all in warmth. I remember hearing the familiar sounds of running water as we traveled through the flooded streets of Happytown. I remember being picked up again and carried through a familiar front door, and I remember someone placing me into my bed like my father did when I was young.

I wanted to thank Lupus for doing what he did. I wanted to thank Tyler for getting me that drink, and for getting a doctor for me. I wanted to thank the nurse, even though I didn't know her name. I wanted to thank everyone, but I couldn't. I would have to save that for another day, because right now, I was just too tired.

* * *

_Monday, April 4th, 2:05 PM_

I sat in silence as Mallory maneuvered the buzzing razor around my collar. She lifted and lowered it in order to reach behind it. Each cut and slice agitated my sensitive skin. I didn't tell her to stop though, I needed to get this over with; the faster, the better.

"That wolf wanted me to tell you something… What was his name— Luke?"

"Lupus."

The buzzing lowered in pitch as Mallory dragged it across my patchy fur.

"Try not to talk so I don't cut you, sweetie."

"Sorry."

Mallory pulled back the shaver and tapped it against the side of the kitchen table. A clump of burnt fur floated down to floor. I remained stationary as she continued to remove my fur, but out of the corner of my eye, I could see what had been taken off. The fur around my neck had lost its reddish brown and white colors. It was instead a mix of grey and charcoal black. My neck fur was now short, bristled, and crusty. Much of it had fallen off during the night, and now, Mallory was left to take off what remained.

"Lupus told me that he was very sorry… about everything."

I didn't think about the possibility of Lupus actually being in on the malicious prank. It was likely that Caesar didn't tell anybody about his evil plan. Hell, he probably got a good kick out of it, just like prey did. I remember seeing Lupus' horrified face as I was getting shocked; he couldn't have known.

"He said that he didn't know that— _Caesar was his name?_ — He didn't know that he was such a— _and I quote—_ ' _heartless little shithead.'"_

I couldn't help but chuckle upon hearing Mallory use language like that. The bobcat prioritized her role as being the perfect role model for her child, and that involved not having a— and I quote—' _pitiful-potty-mouth.'_

Whenever Claire was out with Honey though, her demeanor would naturally shift to more of a relaxed state. Even though it was just me and her, she usually tried to avoid cursing, no matter who's listening.

She took another clump of fur out and banged it against the edge of the table; it wouldn't fall, tangled up against the shaver's blade. I took the opportunity to speak.

"Have you talked to Honey?"

I haven't been able to talk to her since everything had happened. I slept all day yesterday, too tired and sore to talk with anyone. Today when I woke up, she and Claire were already out of the house; they were out on the boat. I was pretty concerned, in fact, I was _really_ worried. She must have been sick with stress last night, and I felt tremendously guilty that I put her through that. Claire continued to strike the device against the table, struggling to get my matted fur out.

"I haven't. No one has. Ever since we got back to the house, she went quiet. She only spoke with Claire when she asked her to go out on the boat this morning."

"Wait. _Honey_ asked _Claire_ to go on the boat?"

"Mmhmm."

I watched as Mallory tore out my tangled fur from the blade of the shaving device. She switched it on again and went back to work.

"You should talk to her when she gets back."

I only nodded. Honey was usually more upfront with me. If she had an issue, she didn't hide anything, and was quick to talk about it. She was an open book, but now, she was hiding something.

I decided to wait for her return. I sat in the living room as the sun passed by overhead, dipping down below the city skyline. At around four, Claire walked through the door alone, saying that Honey went to go talk with Tyler. At around six, drowsiness began to overtake my senses; a side affect from my newly prescribed medications. It was nearly eight now, Honey was still out, and I was way too tired. Instead of going up to my room, I decided to sleep on the couch.

* * *

_Tuesday, April 5th. 1:51 AM_

My slumber was interrupted by a light tapping on my shoulder. I quickly awakened, somewhat startled by the sudden disturbance. My eyes shot open to see Tyler hovering over me as he pressed his finger against my mouth.

"... _shhh…"_

His hushing was barely audible. I began to glance around. The living room was covered in complete darkness. The whole place was dampened with the early morning silence. It was well past curfew.

" _...get. up."_

He still had his finger pressed down on my muzzle. I sat up against the back of the couch; my body was in a much better condition than before with the help of medications. My chest flared up with a wave of hot pain as I slowly pulled myself upright.

" _...sit. still."_

He was practically mouthing the words at this point. I wasn't sure what Tyler was doing, or why he was doing it at two in the morning. I could barely see as his faint silhouette stood over me, reaching behind my neck. The room we were in was faintly illuminated by a soft, yellow light coming from beneath the kitchen sink.

And then I heard a soft click.

My paws instinctively sprang up to my neck. I felt around my newly shaven fur and immediately went into a mix of shock and excitement.

My collar was off.

I watched as Tyler's shadow floated across the kitchen and into the adjoining rooms. I could see that he was carrying a small device in his right paw, while he held my collar in his left. He disappeared for many moments, leaving me in the living room by myself. I sat and waited as I began to detect more movement within the house. My night vision naturally began to kick in while I peered into the dark hallway. Suddenly, Honey, Mallory, and Tyler all emerged from the back of the house and into the kitchen. Tyler lead the way, walking over to the sink and undraping the small curtain. Silently, he climbed into the hole, motioning for us to do the same.

I quickly scrambled off the couch and ran to the others next to the sink. I could hardly make out their facial features, but I had the feeling that they were as anxious as I was. One by one, we descended into the bunker; first Mallory, than Honey, than lastly, me.

The heightened activity irritated my brittle body. My chest felt stiff and frozen by the medicine, and a headache was now starting to form. As I climbed down onto each rung, my ribs flared up with each individual step.

We all reached the bottom of the ladder where Tyler stood waiting for us. Each of us remained quiet as we dropped onto the floor. I looked down and around as I waited for the others below me to move. Mallory was in complete shock; She had never stepped foot inside the secret room before. She was always told that it was simply an extended pantry, not a fully stocked apocalypse-bunker. I glanced over toward the front of the room. Tyler had brought in a suitcase full of files and documents. Beside it, a familiar wolf sat idly on the desk.

It was Lupus.

When I reached the ground, Tyler pulled a rope that hung from the top of the hole, connecting to the latch up above. The trapdoor slammed shut, and for a brief moment, we were all quiet.

In an instant, the everybody began to talk at once. The clashing of voices echoed off of the small metal walls of the enclosed space. Lupus quietly observed from a distance as questions erupted from the three of us, now unbound by the collars that monitored our every move.

"Okay!... ALRIGHT."

Tyler managed to subdue the chaotic storm of questions by raising his voice. Once again, everyone was quiet. We all waited for Tyler to explain himself.

"Look, I know this is… a bit out of the blue, but I'm not sure how long we'll be able to meet like this—"

Mallory interrupted him, clearly upset about everything that was happening.

"Where are we? Why are we here? Why do we have our collars off— _how_ do we have our collars off?"

Tyler tried to calm the bobcat down.

"Mallory—"

"And are those _real_ guns?! That's against district law! What on earth is going on?!"

Tyler approached her reassuringly as she continued to ask the completely relevant questions.

"And what about all of this _crud_ lying around?! —Oh! and _please_ don't tell me what's in those jars over there—".

" _Alright!"_

Tyler had to raise his voice again. Mallory had many reasons for reacting the way she did, and her outburst of questions was rationally justified. Tyler sighed in exhaustion.

"... How about I start from the beginning…"

Tyler looked over to Lupus who sat at the back desk. I realized that just like Mallory, he was also completely unaware of what was happening. He had only just met us last weekend, and now, he was attending a secret meeting that was plotting against the government. However, his reaction wasn't anywhere near Mallory's. He appeared to be going along with everything, observing with a cautious, yet mindful watch.

Tyler paced through the middle of the room as each of us stood around the edges. Tyler thought for many moments before recounting everything that he knew.

"Last month, I conducted a series of investigations on Zootopian military activity. I researched everything from confidential communications to fuel consumption. Around the beginning of March, I detected a significant increase in military imports, including an excessive shipment of extra fuel. All of this was just a few weeks before the attacks began to spring up… The military _prepared_ for the savage attacks, as if they knew it was going to happen from the very beginning…"

Tyler paused for a moment, ensuring that all of us were paying attention. Honey and I already knew the story, but Mallory and Lupus didn't know about anything until now. Tyler took a deep breath and continued as he paced the room.

"... About three weeks ago, I met with Nick in my apartment to discuss everything. We made a plan, or at least had an idea… We agreed that we needed to escape the city-state."

The room was filled with a tense silence. I looked over to Mallory. Millions of thoughts seemed to swarm around in her head as she struggled to figure out how to properly react. I glanced over to Lupus. He didn't show much emotion, but I could tell that he was deep in thought. Tyler continued.

"We need to find mammals outside of Zootopia… There's a mountain range that divides us from the rest of the continent… The Northern Ridge— if we get over it, that's our best bet at finding civilization… I have no idea what's out there, but— we need to act. We need to get out of the confinement zone… We need to find a cure."

Mallory intervened.

"Why would we need to do that? Shouldn't there be mammals who are already trying to find a cure in Zootopia?"

Tyler soaked in the question and was slow to give the answer. Something was off; his demeanor shifted to a more nervous tone. He knew something I didn't.

"I talked with Dr. Turner the other day, the one who came to see Nick, she said that the medical community was… _Collapsing."_

Honey.

" _Collapsing?_ "

Tyler.

"Yes— she told me that predatory doctors were being denied access to medical facilities within the district. Medical professionals are being put out of their jobs by the government…"

Mallory spoke up.

"Well what about prey? They should be looking for one, right? I mean, prey have been _killed_. They _have_ to be interested in finding a cure."

Tyler paused again before continuing.

"Prey aren't getting attacked as long as the confinement zones are up… When I talked with Mrs. Turner the other day, she told me that she looked into what was happening outside of the district…"

Tyler thought for a moment. Something was eating at him. He looked genuinely concerned; he looked guilty.

"And?"

Tyler took a deep breath.

"She said that as far as she knows, despite what the TV channels are telling us… research for a cure has not commenced."

Honey joined in.

"How do _we_ know that _she_ knows?"

Tyler paused as something seemed to weigh down on his conscience. Something was definitely wrong. He told me from the very beginning that he suspected that the government would target local medical professionals, which they have. But something had happened… His voice was no longer quick and energetic. It was now soft and slow.

“Well— She was supposed to be here…”

The room became silent.

_"What?"_

“I— I wanted her to come with us… If we were going to try and find a cure, we needed someone with a medical background— someone who could help create a vaccine or something…”

Tyler gulped. His voice was now plain and monotone.

"I was at my house with Lupus today when I decided to call her… I needed to make arrangements so we could talk about escaping— about getting out of the city-state to find a cure, but… but when I called…”

I glanced over to Lupus. He dipped his head down as he listened to Tyler. He seemed to be replaying the memories in his head as Tyler described them to us. Tyler didn't seem nervous; he was scared.

"Mr. Turner picked up the phone… He was upset— _very, very,_ upset… He was _crying_ … I could barely make out what he was saying… He— … he told me that…”

Tyler paused again as guilt flooded through his mind and into his heart. His voice was shaky.

_"Last night, the government broke into their home and took Mrs. Turner from her bed…”_

That was it. That was what had happened. I felt myself shiver. I was at a loss for words. I looked back at Lupus. He had both paws to his forehead as he leaned forward. Mallory stepped back and gasped. Honey only stood in silence. The government was taking predators, taking them from their homes. Mrs. Turner was a doctor, but she was also a target. She said something that she wasn't supposed to, and somebody was listening through the microphone on her collar.

Tyler's suspicions were correct from the very beginning.

Last week, when he gave me the resume, he was exceedingly vague. I wanted him to talk about our secret, but he didn't; he couldn't. Dr. Turner is why he couldn't. Knowledge was something we had to hide. The mink knew too much, and the government couldn't allow that. They were the ones running the show; the ones who put us in here; the ones who lied to the city, claiming that they'll find a cure…

The ones who never wanted a cure to be found.

Honey was the one that broke the intense silence. Her voice was filled with plain determination.

"What's the plan?"

Tyler stood in the middle of the bunker, deep in thought. He stroked his chin as he turned toward the blackboard at the front of the room.

"The trains."

Lupus perked up at Tyler's suggestion. Tyler turned toward the wolf as he thought of an idea.

"Lupus. I know you've been thrown into all of this… And I know you barely know us… But we _need_ you now. You're the only one that's familiar with the rail-yards… If you can help us…"

Lupus sat back against the blackboard. His eyes darted from one mammal to another. He studied each of us momentarily until he locked his eyes on me. He stared at my blistering neck as he thought. I remembered as he watched me get beaten and electrocuted by the unrelenting officer. He watched me fall unconsciously onto the sidewalk. He carried me to his house. He found my wallet and called Honey. He looked out for me…

"It's possible…"

Tyler looked up from the ground as Lupus spoke for the first time. Lupus scratched his head as he stared straight ahead. His voice was rough and scratchy.

"Extremely difficult… but possible."

Tyler energetically ran toward the desk and picked up an empty notepad. The otter pulled out a chair and hopped into it.

"I need you to tell me everything you know about the loading stations; imports, exports, schedulings, inspections, everything."

Lupus was now clearly engaged in the idea of escaping the confinement zone. Mallory didn't appear to be as excited about it, but she still listened intently.

"I've worked there for over two years now— I'll tell you all I know. You said that we're going to this… _Northern Ridge?"_

"Correct."

Lupus leaned back on the desk. He mentally mapped out train routes in his head.

"Train lines don't go past the border… Furthest stop north is Galena City, and everything beyond that is trees and mountains…”

Tyler began to scribble in his notepad. He spoke up as he continued to right.

"When's the next train scheduled to depart for Galena?"

Lupus went pondered for a few moments. It was his job to help load and unload train cars, and he most likely knew how often imports came from each distributor.

"There's one that's set to leave on the 19th…"

Tyler did not like the sound of that. His pencil froze on the notepad as he looked up.

"I don't think we'll have that much time. Is there any way we can get there faster?"

Lupus thought yet again.

"... Pattington Oil Company."

I winced at the familiar name. The Pattington family owned a major oil distributor up north. The owner was dirty rich, and I punched his son in the face. The wolf continued.

"It's about fifty miles southwest of Galena. They're extremely busy, _tons_ of traffic. If we can get there, than we could easily find another line that goes up to Galena."

Tyler was intrigued by the idea. He began to jot down more information in his notepad.

"... And when's the next departure?"

"Thursday."

Tyler was much more satisfied. However, Honey shot up in protest.

" _Whoa, Whoa, Whoaaa!_ _Thursday?"_

Tyler looked up, clearly confused by Honey's sudden outburst. He swiveled the desk chair around to face her.

"... Is there an issue?"

"Yah. That's _way_ too soon! Let's not forget that Nick here is still recovering from almost getting _killed!_ "

Everyone turned their attention towards me. I looked like shit. My head was heavily bruised from the fall, and my shaven neck was pink and blistered. She had a valid point. I was ordered to stay at home and rest as my fractured bones naturally healed themselves.

"And what about the medicine?! We only have a week's worth of prescriptions! What do we do after that?"

I looked over at Tyler as he itched the back of his head. He sighed heavily, knowing that she was right.

"Look. We need to get out of here as fast as we can. Dr. Turner gave us that prescription for free, and I don't know how we can get anymore medications. If the government found out about Dr. Turner, then who's to say that we're not next?"

"What?! And we just let Nick run out of medications?! _He needs those!"_

Tyler began to raise his voice, counteracting Honey's arguments.

"I know he does! But we don't have a choice!"

"Yes we do! We can wait!"

" _No we can't_!"

" _I don't care_!"

A loud voice suddenly interrupted the two.

"ALRIGHT."

It was Mallory who broke up the fighting. Her motherly instincts kicked in, silencing the room in an instant. She now took charge of the conversation.

"He's here with us, is he not? —Let's let Nick talk."

The four of them averted their attention towards me as I was suddenly put on the spot. I wasn't sure how to react, and so I thought about it for a moment.

Honey was right. I needed to rest and let my body heal properly. Even while taking painkillers, my body was still excessively sore. If I had just one week of medications, then running off wouldn't be the best idea.

But then again… Tyler was _also_ right.

If we were actually going to do this, if we planned on escaping the confinement zone, it would have to be quickly. The government barged into a predator's house and took her away. She told Tyler what she knew, and that got her in prison. If they were interrogating her, if she knew of our plans…

"Thursday."

I found myself speaking before I had completely made up my mind. It was a decision of pure instinct. We needed to leave soon. We needed to get out of here as soon as possible. My voice was bogged down by my increased sleepiness.

"I'll be fine."

Honey grunted in frustration and headed toward the ladder. Tyler looked back over to her, noticing her sudden departure. His voice was back to normal now.

"Honey where are you going?"

Without saying a word, she quickly made her way up to the trapdoor above. Tyler walked over to the bottom of the entrance and looked up.

"Honey?"

Again, no response.

"Honey, we're not done here."

" _I. AM."_

With that, she slammed the trapdoor shut with a loud bang. The noise traveled down the tunnel and into the bunker below, echoing off the walls briefly. The reverb soon subsided, and again, the room was silent. Tyler sighed in defeat, now facing towards me.

"You should go talk to her."

I nodded and headed to the ladder. I was completely unsure of what to say. As I climbed up, I thought about the way she's acted. I hadn't talked with her since last week, and it seemed that she wanted it that way.

The latch squeaked quietly as I slowly swung it open. The crawl out from underneath the sink made my lower chest sting numbly. I stood up in the dark room. I had no idea where she went, but I had an idea. I made my way to the front door and walked out onto the front porch.

Honey stood there leaning against the wooden railing, looking out over the open water down below. I wasn't too worried about anyone seeing us without our collars on. Military convoys rarely traveled through the flooded streets of the Grotto. Plus, it was two in the morning, and our house was fairly secluded by the networking of roads and overpasses. I hesitated momentarily as I struggled to figure out a way to initiate the conversation. I decided that she would be the one to talk first, and so I walked up next to her and leaned up against the railing, looking ahead at the water.

The porch was built roughly twelve feet above the ground. A small, creaky staircase winded down from the front door to the water below. The street was swamped by the turbulent ocean of black. Wind gusts funneled through the concrete valley, picking up speed as it flowed by. The wind stirred up the water below, making it choppy and restless. Small, white crests could be seen as they danced along the fluctuating surface. The faint, glimmering luminance of a nearby streetlight was the only source of light. Soft, yellow glows were broken up by the crashing waves below, refracting shattered luminance across the chaotic sea.

We sat in silence as we watched the sea beneath us toss and turn. I waited for Honey to start the conversation, but she only continued to stare blankly ahead. I wasn't even sure if she knew I was there…

"You wanna know what pisses me off the most?"

Her voice was flat and passionless. I glanced over to Honey who was hunched over the railing next to me. She remained staring straight ahead. I answered cautiously.

"... Yah— what?"

She sighed heavily as her eyes continued to scan around the dark and silent atmosphere around us. She cleared her throat before continuing.

"What pisses me off the most… Is whenever I see mammals— mammals that I _care_ about — get hurt and fuck themselves over; I… I can't do anything about it… I’m just watching from the goddamn sidelines, knowing there's nothing— _absolutely nothing_ I can do to change things."

I didn't respond. My mind went back to that event with Pattington. Honey wasn't with me, and she told me that she wish she had been. Then, my mind went to that day in the district square; again, we were separated. In the line next to me, a bobcat's husband turned feral and attempted to kill a family of minks. Honey could only stand from a distance as she watched me witness the traumatizing event unfold. Then, my mind went to last weekend. I had gotten injured past curfew, and Honey could sit at the house and wait until four o'clock to see me. She heard about me at one, meaning that I had put her through three hours of stressful anticipation, three hours of painful worry, three hours of hell.

It made sense now. She was worried about me. She always had been. Honey seemed to care more about me than _I_ care about me.

I wasn't sure how to respond. Guilt flowed out of my brain, filling up my entire body. I sucked at apologizing. I looked back over the street below. The wind had picked up, shifting and creaking the elevated deck on which we stood. We stood in a fractured silence. Gusts of wind silently howled around us. The water clapped and smacked against the wood beneath us. The overwhelming smells of the sea filled up the hot air, making it moist and heavy. The world around us was alive, and it was only Honey and I who were there to watch it. Eventually, I decided to speak up.

"... I'm… Look, I'm sorry—"

I could hear Honey shift in her spot beside me. We both continued to stare ahead.

"... I— _really_ fucked up. I shouldn't have… done— what I did."

We were both silent again. I tried to come up with the right words, but my vocabulary alluded me at the most inconvenient time.

"... And I know— that you're mad… And— that's _okay_ , really. I just— uh…"

Out of nowhere, I heard a snicker.

I looked over towards Honey. She was smiling. Her lips were fully creased, trying to hold back a small outburst of laughter. She noticed my gaze out of the corner her eye. Her voice was warm and lighthearted.

"No, No. Continue."

She was trying not laugh, and suddenly, I found myself doing the same. The seriousness of the situation had disappeared. A weight was lifted, and now, I found it easier to breathe. Slowly, snickers started to escape from my mouth. Honey and I broke down in a fit of laughter.

"Honey! I'm trying to be sincere here!"

"Yah, _and you fucking suck at it!_ "

"Oh, shut up!"

More laughter ensued. And now, the night seemed a little less dark. The ocean seemed a little less turbulent, and the wind seemed a little less violent. I no longer heard the ambient sounds of the world around us; they were drowned out by laughter.

"... No. No, but seriously. I was being pretty stupid that night."

Honey's chuckles diminished, but her lighthearted attitude remained.

"You're Nicholas Wilde! Being stupid is your thing!"

Another small wave of laughter hit us. She was right. I was horribly accident prone, and my poor judgement can easily contribute to that. The laughing died down, and Honey continued, now sounding slightly more serious.

"No but really. I know you don't need me to babysit you... but next time something bad happens, make sure I'm there with ya. —I don't like it when you get hurt."

I took a deep, relieving breath.

"So… You're okay with us leaving on Thursday?"

Honey sighed.

"I don't like the idea, but yeah, as long as you don't bitch about not having any painkillers."

"I think I can handle it."

We relaxed and watched the night surround us with a reassuring peace. Even when the world was crumbling, even when predators were turning savage, even when our lives are falling apart, there were still things that we could smile about. Honey spoke up again.

"Oh and uh— sorry for acting the way I did today. I've been pretty pissed about everything."

"Well… I really don't blame you."

Honey didn't respond. She returned her gaze back to the murky water ahead of us. I was happy that we were here. As much as we needed to escape, the Grotto was home to me. Honey has shown me a lot in the four, long months that I've spent with her.

She showed me that the world wasn't all that bad. She showed me that there was still beauty in this ugly world we live in. There were things to cherish and keep to ourselves; memories that we could always look back on. She showed me that drinking was exceptionally fun, as long as you did it with the right mammals. She showed me that I wasn't too bad of a shot with a pistol. She showed me how to steal fries, how to crack jokes; she showed me how to laugh.

She showed me a lot about myself, parts of me that were buried. Buried beneath a rigid layer of stubbornness and pessimism. Buried by my past. Buried by prey. Buried by loneliness.

Honey also showed me one important fact; she was there for me. She showed me that she cared about my well being, she cared about my health; she cared about me even when I didn't. Honey would be there for me, through thick and thin, through hell and back; and as our suicide mission was getting set into motion, that was all I truly needed.

"Alright."

Honey broke out of our silent trance, stepping away from the rail and back towards the door.

"Let's see how the hell we're gonna get out of this shithole."

And at that, Honey disappeared behind the front entrance. I looked back at the flooded street one last time. The Grotto was a beautiful place, but we simply could not stay. The abandoned blocks and vacant highways protected us from the outside world, but it couldn't protect us from the unknown demons inside. Any of us could go savage at any moment; that was a horrifyingly true reality.

With that in mind, I stepped back inside, unsure about the future, eager to find out how we were going to escape.

* * *

 


	14. The End of Something Special

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry for the long wait. Not much motivation to post lately, even with everything already being written.
> 
> Oh and also, Judy will be taken out of the tags. Jack_Kellar pointed out that she's in them, and she doesn't actually make an appearance till Book 2. I addressed this topic numerous times in the author's notes before each chapter, but I've been omitting them from the Ao3 version of this story since it addresses a much different audience. Sorry for the confusion.

A total of four hours were spent formulating our escape plan.

The train departed sometime around four on Thursday morning, and so we decided that we would carry out our plans in the early morning during curfew.

Lupus intricately described the layout of the rail-yards. The complex of buildings and warehouses ran along the western shore of Happytown. Lupus' house was located just a few short blocks away. A twelve-foot-high, barbed wire fence ran along the perimeter of the industrial complex. Watch towers were

dotted throughout, carefully watching for thieves who attempted to break in. The rail-yards were stuffed full with imports such as food, tools, weapons, and other commodities worth stealing. Being located next to some of the poorest neighborhoods in the district, the trading station was a hotspot for criminal activity. At night, the guard towers would scan the area with bright spotlights. Armed officers were stationed to patrol the area alongside the perimeter, both inside and out. A high-tech security system kept track of each and every collar that roamed around within the complex's interior. If an unauthorized collar was detected inside, officers were quick to respond.

Fortunately though, we had a key. Tyler had smuggled the device earlier this week while I was recovering from Saturday night. The keys were special tools that were carried by the highest ranking officers in the district. They were the only way of removing our nearly-indestructible collars. Without them on, the six of us would be able to break into the rail-yards undetected, and according to the built-in tracking devices on them, all of us would be at our homes, sound asleep.

Despite this, getting in wouldn't be easy. We debated on how we would be able to sneak inside the heavily guarded walls. Many options were suggested, but after discussing possible risks, almost all of them were rejected and scrapped.

However, one particular option stuck out.

Being so close to the ocean, the rail-yards were often prone to flooding. The tracks were subject to submersion, and economical trade would screech to a grinding hault. The government managed to combat this by installing a spiderweb of tunnels and canals that averted the water away from endangered structures. The irrigation ditches were broken up by a series of bared grates, stopping predators from sneaking through them. However, Lupus suspected that they weren't narrow enough to stop small predators like us from squeezing in between.

After we got through the fences, we would swim through the irrigation ditches and into the station's interconnected sewer system.

The plan sounded good up until there. We weren't sure how the six of us were going to get up to loading platform above. The cistern ran beneath the main structure's basement, and the train tracks were on the ground floor. Lupus didn't know the basement all too well, having worked on the platforms above for the majority of his employment. However, he did know someone that did; Ben the hyena.

Lupus' friend worked in the sanitation department, spending his days mopping up floors and cleaning out toilets. Sanitation workers were required to wear bright, orange jumpsuits while on the job. The suits went up to the chin like a turtleneck, going over and covering workers' shock collars. Lupus said that if he could steal Ben's jumpsuit, I could dress into it and disguise myself as a fellow employee on the job. Tyler said that he could make a fake collar out of spare metal for me to wear underneath my suit, making it seem that I was actually wearing one.

Now that I had access to the station's basement, we talked about how we were going to get all six of us up to the loading platform. Honey suggested that we used the air vents, but Lupus didn't know how the duct system was laid out; plus, the wolf wouldn't be able to fit through the small spaces. We discussed for over an hour about how we were going to get to the ground floor and into the train car without being seen by workers or officers.

After much discussion, we finally came up with a solid plan.

We all decided that Lupus wouldn't be with us during the break-in, but instead, he would sign up for a later shift and go to work as usual, still wearing his collar. The five of us would travel through the sewers, and after I got changed, I would go up to the basement through a nearby access panel while the others stayed back. I was to go and locate blueprints of the building's air duct layout. After retrieving them, I'll go back to the group in the sewers. Together, we'll all climb up and into the building's ventilation system, using the blueprints as a map.

The five of us were to make two stops. First, we would stop by the men's restroom located just outside of the loading area. There, we could meet up with Lupus and give him the key to unlock his collar. After that, we would make our way to the warehouse that stored soon-to-be-shipped exports. Climbing inside of empty crates set by Lupus, the five of us would be taken and stacked into one of the train cars along with other miscellaneous exports. When the loading is done, Lupus will hang back and wait for the right moment. He'll use the key we gave him to take off and dispose of his collar before hiding with the rest of us.

When the train stops for fuel outside of Zootopia, the six of us will get out and travel through the wilderness to Pattingtons’ oil distributor on foot. The government will find out about our escape eventually, and if they do while we are still on the train, they'll let the Pattingtons know about it. If that was the case, we didn't want to be on the train when it actually got to its destination.

We needed to travel lightly, but we might also need to survive in the wilderness for an extended period of time, especially when we made the journey from Galena City to the Northern Ridge. Honey already had tools and supplies ready for the _imminent sheep apocalypse_ … So we were well prepared to live out on our own.

Our plan was repeated and recounted multiple times. We went through all of the possible scenarios, from best case to worst case. We discussed what we were to do if some of those scenarios actually played out. I seriously doubt that we'll make it through this as planned, but we had to try. This was the only way of surviving, that was all I knew.

* * *

  _Wednesday, April 6th. 1:42 PM_

"Come on guys, let's go!"

Claire enthusiastically hopped down the hill to the water below. The young bobcat leaped into the parked kayak on the shoreline. Mallory and I sat underneath the tree.

"One moment, sweetie! Honey's still on the phone!"

I looked over through the side door. Honey paced around the kitchen with the telephone held to her her head. She used her free paw to fondle with the stretched cord, wrapping it around her fingers and pulling down on it. She was talking to Lupus. I could faintly hear her conversation from where I sat.

"... _yeah?... No, we can come today… most likely at two… Yah, we have food with us… Not a problem._ "

Tyler suggested that we should take the boat out today and pay Lupus a visit. Although it appeared that we were visiting him for lunch, we were actually planning for tonight. The first step of the escape was to discreetly travel to the perimeter of the complex. At around midnight, Honey, Mallory, Claire, and I will take the kayak out and make our way silently to Lupus' house. Because of the flooding, military trucks were unable to patrol the area south of the rail-yards. If a collar was active and moving through the flooded streets past curfew, then officers would take a motorboat out to investigate. If collars weren't moving, than the police weren't either. If we stuck to back alleys and vacated streets, we could make the journey completely undetected.

The curfew was only given to Divisions 1 and 2, predators who are seen as more dangerous and criminally active. Tyler, being an otter, was in Division 3, meaning that he could go out and about at whatever time he pleased. Tonight however, he would have to leave his collar in his apartment and make the trip down to Lupus' house in secret. Right now, he already had his collar off, sitting alone in his apartment with the door locked tight. He gave the key to Lupus to give to the rest of us so that Honey, Mallory, Claire, and I could also unlock our collars. Tonight, the four of us were to meet Tyler at Lupus' house, and together, the five of us would swim through the streets in order to get to the fence.

"Let's go, guys!"

Claire jumped on the kayak, causing it to wobble and bob on the shallow water. She threw her arms out and waved them energetically. The bobcat has always enjoyed our trips out on the boat, and today was no exception…

She didn't know.

Monday night, when we held our secret assembly, Tyler didn't wake Claire up. We all considered the possibility of letting her attend the meeting with us, but Mallory decided that we should let her sleep. We all agreed that Claire shouldn't know about our plans until tonight. We weren't sure if she would be able to keep her mouth shut, plus, Mallory didn't want to put that much stress on her young daughter.

Honey walked out.

"Alright! Let's head on out! Nick, did you take your meds?"

I nodded. The painkillers were helping out greatly, I could barely feel any pain in my chest, and my head felt fine.

Claire jumped with glee.

"Yay! Come on! Everybody in!"

Mallory picked up the basket full of food, and the two of us met up with Honey as we made our way to the kayak. Although tonight's plans were still on all of our minds, I think that spending one last day in the Grotto was a good idea. We needed time to unwind before we carried out our suicide mission.

Mallory walked in first, stepping onto the shifting boat and sitting next to her daughter at the boat's bow. Honey piled in behind her, making her way to the middle seat; she was always the one that rowed. I untethered our boat from the front porch and jumped in. I climbed onto the stern of the kayak, looking over at the other three from my elevated perch.

Together, the four of us drifted away from our house and out to the open water.

The Grotto was located in the far southeast corner of the district. The old highway served as protective wall, running along the the neighborhood's northern border. Other freeways and roads snaked through maze-like neighborhood, eventually meeting up with the old highway next to the torn down bridge. The Grotto was snuggled in between these roads, isolated from the rest of Happytown.

The Water Street neighborhood was to the west of the Grotto, located on the district's southwest corner. The neighborhood was mostly inhabited by lower class fisherman and workers. Rail-yard employees like Lupus often lived there too, since the industrial site was located just a few blocks away. Like the Grotto, the Water Street neighborhood was prone to flooding, and most predators owned small paddle boats to get to work.

The two neighborhoods were awfully quiet in the evenings, meaning that our secret endeavor would be easier to carry out.

We made our way through the peaceful streets of the Grotto. Claire jubilantly pointed out the different interesting sights. There was an abandoned house with a tree sprouted up its interior. There was a small tent that someone had set up on top of an old semi truck. There was an empty storage container that somebody had converted into a cozy dwelling. Large, crumbling buildings and abandoned freeways towered over us as we maneuvered through the streets. Grass grew in the oddest of places, and trees sprouted from the strangest of spots. The whole place seemed like a chaotically assembled wonderland. Buildings stood tall like mountains and elevated roads rose up like cliffsides. Vacant lots were submerged like lakes, and flooded streets snaked through it all like rivers. Makeshift homes were set up in unique and clever of spots. The Grotto has shown me that some of the most creative mammals on earth are homeless predators.

I looked over at Honey. She was facing away from me as she paddled the boat, but I knew how she felt. She stopped at intersections more often, and she took her time looking at each and every building that we passed. When we went out on the boat before, she usually ignored her familiar surroundings, only stopping when Claire asked her to. But now, she was taking in every inch of the place, appreciating the peculiarly beautiful setting that surrounded her. I've only lived here for a few months, and I definitely knew that I was going to miss it. Mallory looked a little sad about it as well, even though she has been here for only three weeks. The Grotto has a way of sticking to you.

"Mom? Where is the wolf's house?"

"Just a few blocks away now."

Honey turned on to Water Street and headed northwest. Unlike the Grotto, the Water Street neighborhood was laid out like a grid. Houses were built on stilts and lined the roadways. Compared to the Grotto, Water Street was much more civilized. Claire leaned back with her arms folded.

"Mom?"

Mallory lied down next to her with her legs hanging over the side of the boat. She yawned before responding.

"Yes Claire?"

"When do we get to eat?"

Her voice was nasally and strained. Mallory chuckled at her daughter's whining.

"When we get to Lupus' house."

"Ughh. _I want food nowww_."

"We're almost there, sweetie."

" _Ughhh."_

Claire's demeanor was light hearted and innocent. Even though she was an only child, her parents never spoiled her. Growing up in a middle class family, she lived a typically normal life. She and Mallory had the hardest time adjusting to their new lives in the confinement zone, but over time, they've gotten used to almost everything…

Claire is still working on getting used to smaller meals.

" _MoOoOoOomMmYy…_ "

Mallory was only amused by her daughter's beguiling temper. Claire's voice was shaky and overly dramatized.

" _MoThEr I aM dYiNg HeRe…_ "

Mallory looked over to Honey mischievously.

"Hey Honey?"

"Yes, Mallory?"

By the wound of her voice, Honey was also entertained by Claire's jaunty complaints.

"Is there any way to make this boat go _slower?_ "

Claire looked up and gasped.

"—NO!"

Everyone began to chuckle; everyone except for Claire, who gullibly took her mother's facetious suggestion as a serious instruction. She quickly realized it was a joke, but she stubbornly forced herself not to laugh; or at least she tried.

"Guys— _*snicker* *snicker*_ that's not— _*snicker*_ funny!"

Honey continued to taunt the humorous bobcat, lifting her ore out of the water.

"You know Claire, I could just stop rowing."

The kayak began drift idly in the water. Claire was alarmed by this, but struggled to contain her laughter.

"... _*snicker*—_ NO!"

Honey laughed and put the paddle back into the water, swinging each side to further propel us down the street. Mallory sat back with her head hanging over the side of the boat.

"We're almost there, Claire-Bear."

_"I'm not a bear!"_

We floated through Water Street until we reached Lupus' house. His home was more like a hut constructed on stilts. The house was pretty much an exact replica of the nearby dwellings; extremely small and falling apart. The chipped paneling of the houses were soaked with the moisture of salt water. The gaps between the sea level and the houses' bottoms were only a couple inches. This season's flooding was near record breaking. Honey called out when we stopped in front of his house.

"Lupus!"

The wolf was fairly quick to get to the door. Lupus poked his head out before stepping onto the small patio.

"Pull us in!"

Honey threw a rope towards the porch where Lupus stood. He caught it, and began to tug us in closer. Lupus spoke up as he anchored us to a post.

"Where'd you say we were eating?"

Honey balanced the boat as we closed in on the house.

"I was just thinking inside."

Lupus looked up and down the street. He looked back inside before replying.

"It's pretty messy. How about we sit outside? It's a nice day."

"Sounds good to me."

We pulled ourselves close to the porch and stepped onto the small wooden platform. Mallory brought the basket with her and placed it down on the floor. Claire was the first one to get her food, devouring it almost instantly. The rest of us sat back and relaxed on the porch, watching the boats pass by.

The sun radiated it's comforting warmth onto the soaked streets below. Warm, damp air blew in from the west, bringing the smells of seawater to our senses. The water below us slapped and clapped against the house's wooden stilts. There was not a single cloud in the sky today. The whole scene was rather peaceful.

We sat and talked about a variety of different topics. Even though our discussion was utterly unaffiliated with what would happen tonight, the thoughts floated nearby like lingering ghost. I could tell that Lupus felt the same as we did, we were all nervous, yet passionately excited. Claire, however was oblivious. She was oblivious to the fact that we planned on escaping the city. She was oblivious to the way we acted, pretending that there wasn't a possibility of us getting thrown into jail or killed. She was oblivious to the slight anxiety we all felt whenever a train rumbled into the nearby station. But that was a good thing; She didn't have to go through that constant stress. Mallory wanted it that way. We all wanted it that way.

By the time we all got done with our food, it was almost three.

"Uhuh… No… Look, I don't know!... —where did you put it last…?"

Lupus was in the kitchen talking on the phone. We could all hear his end of the conversation from outside the open door.

"I already told you… mhm— Look, You lose things all the time, it'll turn up eventually…"

I could faintly pick up the voice on the other end. It sounded vaguely familiar.

"Yeah— … Alright, see ya man."

A soft beeping sounded as the phone was hung up. Lupus walked back into his room momentarily before returning back to the porch. He was holding Ben's uniform.

"I'll just put this in your boat."

Lupus walked across the patio and knelt down, placing the orange jumpsuit on the stern-side seat. He stood back up and faced us, pointing at the uniform.

"The keys are in the front pocket."

Honey specified.

"All of them?"

Lupus nodded. He was supposed to give us two sets of keys. The first ones would give me access to each and every door and in the complex's basement. The second key was the one that Tyler had given us; it was the key that could unlock our shock collars.

Lupus nonchalantly sat down beside me, leaning against the back of the porch's railing.

"How's your… Um— How've you been doing?"

I could tell that Lupus felt a little guilty about what happened Saturday night. It was his friend that was responsible for it all, and even when it wasn't Lupus' fault, he felt as if he should've taken the blame. I answered as genuinely as possible.

"A whole lot better. I'm fine, really."

Lupus nodded as he stared below my face and at my neck. The blisters were starting to heal over, and my skin was beginning to return to its natural color.

Lupus looked away and towards everyone else. It was nearly time to go. Honey sat up, wiping loose crumbs off of her shirt.

"Well, today's been nice, but I think we should head home."

Mallory nodded in agreement. Her daughter was sound asleep, resting her head on her mother's lap.

"Well… It was nice having you over…"

Lupus' voice was soft and heartfelt. We both knew what was ahead of us. I could see it in his eyes; there was so much he wanted to tell me, so much that he wanted to say. Our forced censorship would end soon, though. Weeks of keeping secrets were about to end. It was now or never.

We shook paws, knowing that this could possibly be the last time we saw each other. Lupus wouldn't be with us until the very end, and if something were to go wrong... No. We couldn't think like that. The plan was going to work; it had to.

Mallory carried her sleeping child and stepped in after Honey. I stepped in and casted us out, leaving Lupus on the porch.

"I'll see you again."

Lupus shouted out from behind me as we turned our boat eastward. I looked back at him as Honey began rowing.

"Yah— I'll talk with you later."

With that, the four of us began our journey back to the Grotto. We traveled in silence, passing through the flooded streets of southern Happytown. I took a good glimpse of my surroundings. Predators were on their front porches, cleaning dishes and reading books. As peaceful as it was here, staying wasn't an option. They didn't know as much as we did. They knew that they were victims, but they were not aware of who was responsible.

If they knew, if everyone discovered the truth, it would change everything. There would be riots. There would be chaos. There would be an uprising against prey, but as long as we were in here, and as long as a cure remained nonexistent, we were all fucked.

This was the only way. We were the only ones that knew the truth, and we were the only ones that could stop this.

"...hey mom?

Claire was beginning to wake up from her afternoon nap. Her voice was light and soft spoken. Mallory looked down at her child.

"Yes, baby?"

Claire opened her eyes.

"Can we go see that wolf again someday?"

Mallory hesitated, knowing that we would see him again, but not in the way Claire thought.

"... Of course— we'll see him very soon."

We made our way into the Grotto. I took in the familiar sights one last time. The Grotto was a beautiful place. It was a sanctuary, and to an extent it still is. As we traveled down the street, memories resurfaced in my head.

I remember the small trips we made to the shooting range. I remember walking through the early morning dew fall. I remember seeing the sun climb over the city skyline, casting brilliant hues of soft yellows and oranges. I remember getting drunk with Honey, and how much those moments meant to me. I remember seeing the world fall apart around us. I remember bringing Mallory and her daughter over on that rainy day; the day that her husband died. I remember seeing the waters rise, and I remember seeing the look on Claire's face when we took her out on the boat for the first time.

Something occurred to me. I wasn't going to miss the Grotto because of how beautiful it was… I was going to miss how it made me feel. I was going to miss its protection. I was going to miss its security. From now on, there was no more hiding. From the moment we leave the Grotto tonight, it's us against the world.

This is the end. The end of something special. No matter what happens tonight, a part of my life will conclude; a chapter will meet its end. However, when one chapter ends, a new one begins. If we make it; If we escape from Zootopia; a new part of my life will begin, and if we can get to the Northern Ridge in one piece, than hell, we might actually be able to live through this.

We all returned home, and after a few hours, Honey and I decided that we were going to bed extra-early tonight to get as much rest as possible.

We were going to need it.

* * *

 


	15. As One Door Closes...

 

* * *

  _15 Years Ago_

Night quickly enveloped the quiet neighborhood, saturating it in hues of cool blue. It was a chilly winter night. The streetlights behind the apartment complexes flickered in the dark, faintly glowing in the shadows. The moon hung above, casting pale light onto the peaceful city blocks below. Small, yellow squares of light shone into the night, partially concealed by hanging window curtains.

The streets and alleys were empty, void of the usual juvenile laughter that filled the outside air. Summer was now a distant memory, and the childhood shenanigans that took place in the storm drain slowed to a stop. The children occasionally played in the snow, but with almost all of them in school now, their games and adventures only existed in recent recollections. The life that ran through the city slums became stale. The neighborhood kids were growing up.

The run down apartment buildings lined the street with a still silence. It was a Sunday night, and most of the mammals were already asleep. However, inside the southern most complex, Nick's father was wide awake…

…

…

…

He sat anxiously at the telephone.

"Look, Andrew, I know we've got to finish things up, but this really isn't the right time."

The phone crackled with sputtering static as the mammal on the other end began his response.

" _Well we have to pay them back somehow? How do you expect us to do that, John?"_

The fox sighed heavily as he kicked his feet up onto a stack of packed boxes.

"... I don't know. Alright? I just— ughhh"

John leaned his head back in defeat. He played with his tie, wrapping it around his fingers. The house began to shake and rumble as a train passed by outside. The fox was already used to continuous passing of locomotives. Periodical disruptions became insignificant ambience. As the vibrations subsided, John sat in his squeaky office chair, listening to the light pitter patter his partner's typewriter.

"... How much are we at now?"

The tapping on the other end stopped briefly. The sounds of shifting papers began to filter through the old telephone.

" _$21,400."_

John winced at the staggering figure. After a series of loans and rent payments, the two of them were had racked up a large amount of debt.

" _... And that's not including this month's rent."_

The fox sat in silence, unsure of what to say or do. When times were hard, it was never okay to give up, giving in wasn't an option; John knew this very well. However, the last few months had been especially unforgiving, and now, the two of them were hitting rock bottom. John listened as the typing resumed through the distorted speaker.

His partner could sense that the tension was growing between them, and he decided to change the subject.

" _... So uh— how's Nick been holding up…?"_

The fox was comforted by the thoughts of his beloved son. John loved to brag about Nick, especially to his business partner. He told him countless stories and tales about the young fox. It was clear that John was a proud father.

However, this time, he was caught off guard. His business partner never quite enjoyed what John had to say. Andrew was the more formal one between the two. He would often listen partially, silently tolerating the fox's lack of professionalism. However, this time, he was the one that brought up the subject.

And John knew why.

"Oh, he's been uh— He's been doing well! Thanks for asking…!"

The conversation went to an abrupt hault. The two of them sat on either side of the call, quietly soaking up the static-filled silence. The air seemed to grow denser as John looked around. Boxes were piled high around the living room. A bin full of unmarked price tags was placed on the edge of his desk. Pictures and decorations were stowed away, organized into different, assorted stacks. The once-comforting green walls that around him were barren, surrounding him with unwanted memories of the past. John broke out of his stupor as he glanced at the spot where the wall clock once hung.

"Andrew, what time is it?"

A bell could be heard as Andrew readjusted his typewriter's carriage. His response was fairly quick.

" _9:07"_

Nick's father jubilantly jumped from his chair, still holding the wired telephone as he made his way to the window.

" _Wait, what are you—"_

Andrew's voice cut off as the telephone system fell onto the floor with a loud clank. John quickly ran back to pick up the machine, carrying it to the window with him.

"Hey— hello?"

" _... Yeah?"_

"Sorry about that."

John leaped onto a box, gaining enough height to be able to look outside. He peered out the window at an odd angle, watchfully looking down at the alleyway below.

"Nick's over at a friends house. I told him to head home at nine."

Nick's father didn't have the best view of the small alleyway that ran behind the row of apartments, but everyday, he stood at the windowsill and waited for his son's arrival. John had already told the story to Andrew multiple times, angrily ranting about the stupidity of one of his neighbors. Just last month, one of the Cunningtons had gotten exceedingly drunk while visitors were over. The intoxicated goat chased Nick off after seeing him in their backyard. While talking to Andrew, John often referred to them as the _Cunt_ -ingtons, and claimed that if he had enough money, he would sue them in a heartbeat, even if predators rarely won court cases. John didn't hold grudges often, but the Cunningtons were a definite exception.

It was now early December, and after what's happened the last month, Nick had gotten over the event.

The father continued to stare down into the alleyway below, waiting for his son to make his way back. It was getting late, and Nick was supposed to be on his way home.

"Hey Andrew, I might have to call you back…"

The predator on the other end was distracted by his work. The sounds of his typewriter slowed down in pace as Andrew averted his attention back to the fox on the other end.

"Wha— Sorry, did you say something?"

Nick's father repeated himself, now aware of why his son wasn't on his way home.

"Nick's supposed to be on his way back. I'll probably have to go get him here in a sec. I should've known. I can see why he'd want to stay longer, considering that it's his last night."

The two of them paused in silence. Andrew cleared his throat through the muffled static of the telephone. At once, a consistent pattern of light taps could be heard. Andrew reset the typewriter's carriage before continuing.

"Well, make sure you talk with the landlord about ending our lease. I'll talk to you tomorrow about maybe getting a loan… If they're not assholes about it this time."

John snickered. Loan companies were often welcoming to entrepreneurs who sought after big business opportunities. However, predators were rarely trusted, especially foxes.

"Yah, I'll keep in touch."

"Mhm."

A dial tone rang out as the call was terminated. John still held the telephone machine in his paws as he continued to look out the window. After waiting momentarily, the young father came to the conclusion that his son wasn't coming home by himself. Placing the telephone on the desk as he passed by, the fox went over to the front of the room, retrieving his collar from an unused coat rack. After strapping it on, John grabbed the keys and headed out the door, locking it behind him.

The hallway was dimly lit, illuminated by the flickering lamps that lined the peeling walls. The dry air crawled in from outside, filling the hall with a bitter chill. John made his way down the large corridor, stopping at a somewhat familiar doorway.

The fox knocked the bottom of the door with three firm knocks. The muffled sounds of continued shuffling came from inside. Footsteps approached from behind, eventually unlocking and unfastening a small line of locks.

The entryway was opened, revealing a tall, female grizzly bear.

"Oh, Mr. Wilde! Won't you come in!"

Her voice was kind and genuine. The bear had known John for years. As their children grew up together, the two of them have gotten to know each other quite well. The two parents have been to each other's apartments many times. As their children's friendship grew, so did theirs.

"Mrs. Reeves! It's so nice to see you!"

Nick stepped into the spacious apartment. The bears' dwelling was much larger in scale. Furniture was specifically built to accommodate the sizable predators. The room was fairly dark. A single lamp sat in the corner of the den, barely able to reach its luminance across to the other end of the space. John leaned up against the arm of a nearby couch. He didn't want to get comfortable; it was not his intention to stay long.

"Care for some leftover casserole? It's still pretty hot."

John looked down, declining politely.

"I think I'll pass. It's getting pretty late, and Nick and I have a long day tomorrow."

"Are you sure?"

The fox only nodded. The grizzly bear towered over him as they stood at the front door. Mrs. Reeves' spirits were dampened by John's refusal to stay. She walked solemnly into the living room, looking down the house's single hallway.

"Alexavier! Nicholas! Duke! Come on into the livingroom!"

The distant floorboards began to creak and shuffle . A young, adolescent voice poured in from the end of the hall.

"One second Ma!"

Mrs. Reeves walked backwards to the front door, averting her attention to John. Her voice was soft and sweet.

"Oh, those boys are growing up so fast! —They've already been in school for half a year!”

The shuffling bursted out from Alex's room and made its way down the hall. The three young predators came flying into the den at eccentric speeds. First came Duke, a small, squany weasel from across the street. Next came Alex, a tall and broad grizzly bear, the oldest of the three. Then came Nick, instantly running to his awaiting father.

"Dad!"

Nick leapt into John's body, embracing his father tightly. The young fox hadn't seen him all day, spending the previous night at the Reeves' apartment. Still, no matter how often the two of them were together, reuniting was always something to look forward to. Nick's dad was constricted by his son's tight grasp, who hung onto him with his feet off the floor.

"Why— if it isn't my little fur-ball of energy."

John inhaled deeply as Nick let go, hopping back onto the floor.

"Dad! We were just playing this game where you take a ball and throw it and if it hits someone else then they're out and if it doesn't then you have to do this thing where you—"

Nick's continuous jumble of energetic descriptioning was immediately halted by John's interruptive response.

"Woah! Sounds like a boatload of fun!"

"Yah! It was!"

Nick was jumping in place, unusually hyper at this time of hour. It was almost half-past-nine, and John knew that his energetic spirit would soon be succumbed by sleepiness. With that in mind, the fox started to back toward the door.

"Thank you for having him over, Mrs. Reeves! We should really get going!"

Nick stopped dead in his tracks.

"But _Dad!_ I'm not even that tired!"

John only snickered.

"Yeah, and that won't last long— We should hurry on over to our house before I have to carry you to bed!"

Nick continued to protest.

" _Please?_ Can I just spend the night again?"

John leaned against the back of the doorway as he locked his gaze with Nick. He responded in a soft and authorize tone.

"We have to get up early tomorrow. We can come back anytime you'd like."

The father reached above his head to pull the door knob down, opening the door behind him. Nick stopped himself from speaking again, knowing that it would be of no use. He stood between the entryway and his friends, facing his father. Nick glanced back at Duke and the Reeves', and then over to John again. His father read his son's mental message and nodded silently. Nick turned around and ran over to hug his friends one last time.

It was an odd group hug. Even though he was the youngest Alex stood tall over them, having to bend down to meet Nick's and Duke's height. Duke was much smaller than Nick which made things even more awkward. Nick threw one arm onto Alex's shoulder while wrapping the other around Duke's neck.

It was an odd group hug, but the three of them didn't care one bit.

"Make sure you tell Sean that I'm not giving him that money back…"

Nick's voice was muffled by the embrace, his face buried into Alex's chest.

"... And tell Daniel that I'm still the best at swimming, and that I don't care if he's a river otter."

The hug lasted for several more moments before the three loosened their embrace. Nick walked backwards, saying his last farewells before meeting his father at the doorway. Mrs. Reeves gave John a small shock collar, and the father turned back and securely strapped it around his son's neck. John thanked the grizzly bear one last time before closing the door. In silence, the two of them made their way down to the empty street below.

The two foxes walked quietly.

The green lights on their collars shone like beacons in the darkness of the night. The wind picked up, blowing a burst of bitterness into the streets. The foxes tucked their chins down and kept their paws in their pockets, trying their best to keep the warmth inside the clothes they wore. They walked close together, side by side down the polluted sidewalk.

John noticed his son's gloomy expression as the two headed home. He broke the silence, consoling Nick with a sincere tone.

"We can come back and visit anytime."

Nick did not reply. His tail dragged in the pavement. John searched for a way to brighten up his son's mood.

"You know, I've been thinking…"

The fox trailed off, ensuring that his son was paying attention. Nick continued to stare straight ahead, but his ears perked at the sound of his father's statement. John continued.

"... I think, that after all these years, you're finally ready…"

Nick was slightly confused by his father's vague remarks. He tilted his head in befuddlement, unsure of what his father was talking about.

"... I think— That you should run the business with me."

Nick instantly perked up. He had always wanted to help out around the shop, but now, after years of waiting, his father was finally making the proposition.

"How does ' _Wilde and Son's'_ sound to you?"

Nick was overwhelmed with joy.

"Are you serious?!"

John chuckled with glee. He pulled his son close, tucking him under his arm.

"Serious as can be!"

At once, he began to dig his paw into Nick's head, ruffling and messing up his son's fur. Nick laughed and squirmed uncontrollably, trying to escape his father's grip. After a few more seconds, John let go, allowing his son to readjust his fur. They were both laughing with wholehearted joy.

John pulled his son in again as they got near the apartment complex. Nick continued to ask a bombardment of questions as they walked along, and his father only laughed, unable to keep up with the overwhelming amount of inquiries. They walked up the staircase to the top floor, talking about the bright future ahead of them. They made their way into the apartment, still deep in the fast-paced conversation.

"Ooh! Do I get to work at the front desk?!"

"If you want to, I don't see why not."

Nick ran into his room to get changed, while John walked into the bathroom, loosening up his tie. Despite them being in different rooms, Nick refused to pause the discussion.

 _"Oh! Oh!_ Do I get to design the suits?!"

"Sure!"

John took his tie off and unbuttoned his suit. After tossing them in the hamper, he reached for the toothpaste.

"Can I make the suits? When can I start stitching?!"

"Once I teach you how to use a sewing machine!"

Nick bursted out of his room and into the small bathroom. John had just started brushing his teeth as his son began to push him out. Once his father was out of the bathroom, Nick slammed the door shut, still carrying on the conversation.

"Oooooh! Can I pick out the ties for outfits!? Can we sell bow ties?!"

"Of course!"

A clunk was heard as the seat of the toilet was lifted up. Still, Nick was determined to keep talking.

"Oh! What about finances?! When can I file some taxes!?"

"Whenever you graduate from secondary school like I did!"

"Awwgh."

The toilet seat slammed shut, and after flushing the toilet, Nick was already running out into his small bedroom. John returned to the sink to rinse.

"Can I measure out the suit sizes!? Do I get a measuring tape!?"

His father spat out his toothpaste.

"Yes, Sir!"

John walked back into his son's room to meet his son, who enthusiastically jumped on his bed.

"And OH! When do I get to wear a suit?!"

"As soon as I can make one for you…”

The two of them laid on the bed for over an hour, discussing the anticipated future ahead of them. Not once did John mention his economical situation. Not once did he mention that the company was going bankrupt. Not once did he mention the fact that he and his partner were over $20,000 in debt. Not once did John mention any of that, because if he did, it would hurt Nick.

It wasn't about looking good. It wasn't about making the most money or selling the most suits. It was about happiness; Nick's happiness. As long as his son was happy, than John could sleep at night. As long as Nick hoped for a better future, then his father was going to make it that way. As long as they had each other, than they could call any place home.

As long as Nick knew that he was loved, then nothing else in the world mattered.

Nothing.

It was almost eleven now, and Nick was falling fast asleep. John got up and tucked him in, knowing that he needed as much sleep as possible.

The fox walked slowly to the door and shut the light off, instantly filling the room with comforting darkness. The father stopped at the doorway, watching his son drifting into a peaceful slumber. Tomorrow was the day of their move, and tonight was the last night they had in the small apartment they called home.

John waited for several moments before returning to his room for the night. It was going to be a big day, and he knew that tomorrow morning was just around the corner. He went to bed, getting as much sleep as possible.

He was going to need it.

* * *

 

 


	16. ...Many More Will Open

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**This story is not dead. It's alive and well on Fanfiction . net, but getting that story translated to this site is a major pain. I'm extremely sorry. I know you guys want more. I'll see if I can get more chapters over here. (It'll probably be a separate story, since technically it's Book 2) I'm currently working on Book 4 over at FF if you guys want more of this story. Again, I am extremely sorry. I've been neglecting you and that is a rediculous, immature thing to do. I really hope you can enjoy this. If you've been following along since the beginning, thank you for sticking around.**

* * *

My slumber was inconsistent and turbulent. Anxious thoughts pummeled against the inside of my skull, prohibiting my battered brain from sinking into a deep sleep. My eyes would dart frantically toward the alarm clock on my nightstand, only to see that little time had passed since I last checked. I tossed and turned; alternating which side I laid on. I flipped my pillow countless times, trying to find a cool spot to rest my head. Even though my room was rather cold, my pillow was still soaked in sweat.

The dreadful night consisted of shifting around in my sheets and staring at the time. Getting comfortable was simply not possible.

Time moved slowly. Each minute seemed to pass individually, sluggishly stalling at each sixty-second interval. My body was tired, but my mind remained painfully active. The night lasted for an unfathomable amount of time. It was getting close to midnight when my brain finally decided to drift off into space…

* * *

_Thursday, April 7th. 12:31 AM_

"... _Nick…"_

I shot up from the mattress, frightened by the sudden awakening. My senses went into overdrive as I began to take in my surroundings. I was still in my room, it was pitch black outside, and someone was standing next to my bed.

I felt a paw grasp my shoulder as the mammal leaned in. I stood still, fully aware of what was about to happen. I felt my collar rotate and shift around, rubbing against my newly-healed skin. I heard a small clicking noise as metal scraped against metal. The muscles around my neck relaxed as the collar was lifted.

I turned to face the shadowy figure who stood close by. I could barely make out the outline of the apparition before me, but I could still interpret who it was. It was Mallory.

In silence, she made her way back to the door, motioning for me to follow. My eyes began to adjust to the darkness as I stood up.

My chest was pierced by a hot, stinging pain as I wobbled onto my feet. My stomach was churning, and my legs were shaking. A myriad of emotion flooded into me, filling up every inch of my body. I was utterly horrified about what we were about to do, but at the same time, I was nervously excited.

It was time.

I rushed out the bedroom doorway and bolted down the staircase. My chest inflamed, stabbing me with each short breath. When the drugs wore out, the pain kicked in. I was supposed to take my painkillers each and every morning, and it was clear that I needed another dose.

I leaped down into the kitchen below. Mallory had ventured off elsewhere in the house. I could hear the quiet squeaks of rusty door hinges from down the hall. The living room was hauntingly quiet. Not a single light was on, allowing darkness to infiltrate from outside. The house felt empty; its familiarity seemed to disappear in the darkness. I glanced over towards the cabinets. The curtains beneath the sink glowed faintly with yellow light.

I wasted no time, walking over and unveiling the trapdoor. I looked down through the small glass window. The luminance rose up along the tunnel walls, radiating from the bunker below. I flung the door open and stepped inside, eagerly ready to begin our escape.

The tunnel around me began to increase in brightness as I quickly descended. The light became blinding, and I had to squint my eyes when I reached the bottom.

Blinking rapidly, my eyes soon adjusted to the brightly lit room. I looked over to the back wall. Almost all of the guns were taken down, packed into two small backpacks. At the front of the room, a foldable table had been set up in front of the desk. Behind it stood Honey, meticulously organizing and packing up supplies to take with us.

"About time you showed up. Nice boxers…"

I was still in my baggy underpants, too excited to change into a pair of normal clothing. Honey looked back down at the table, shifting her focus down to the backpacks in front of her. I scoffed smugly.

"And how long have you been up?"

Honey stuffed three bags of dry rice into one of the packed rucksacks on the table. She sighed heavily, hunched tiredly over the table.

"Since ten…"

I walked over to the cluttered table between us. Three small backpacks were filled with an assortment of essential tools and supplies. To the right, cans of food were stacked in a small pyramid near the edge of the table. On the other end, an assemblage of miscellaneous items were organized into separate piles. Honey had a list of every item we were taking. Basic supplies such as batteries and first aid kits were packed up. When it came to survival, Honey knew what she was doing.

I leaned over, looking into the backpacks. Honey scratched the back of her head, taking in all that she had done.

"24 cans of food, 4 changes of clothes —including Bennett's uniform, 3 medical packs, 6 multi tools, a shit ton of medicine…"

Honey trailed off, repeating the rest of the supplies in her head. She looked unsatisfied with her hard work.

"This will last us a week. Maybe two… Fuck— We have a year's supply of food here, but we can only take two weeks of it? Fuck that!"

Honey was clearly annoyed by the underwhelming collection of supplies in front of her. She had spent most of her life saving up, gathering equipment that would last her through an apocalypse. But now, when she finally got to use it, she could only take a fraction of what she had. The backpacks between us were stuffed full, containing enough supplies for the six of us. It was the food that would soon be a problem. Honey grunted in defeat. I tried to lighten the mood a little.

"Well, I guess we'll just have to steal from some farmers. Hell! Let's just live off carrots for two months!"

I chuckled at the thought. The six of us, wanted criminals on the run, stuffing our bags with some poor bunny's carrots. Honey nodded her head before responding.

"... It'll have to come to that anyways… Can't bring the whole damn bunker with us…"

We stood there for a moment as we heard shuffling from above. Mallory was probably waking her daughter, who was completely oblivious to what was about to transpire. I looked down into one of rucksacks and began to rummage through a pile of medicine containers.

"Painkillers are in the front pocket."

I moved my search over to the first, smallest pocket. I pulled back the zipper, and It didn't take long to find the needed box of pills. I opened up the small, cardboard flaps to reveal the remainder of my prescription.

Only two more days until I ran out.

"Oh! I almost forgot!"

Honey snapped out of her aggravated state, running quickly to the other end of the room. I turned back to the table and located a full water bottle. I spilled two pills into my paw and gulped them down with the drink. Ironically, it tremendously hurt my chest to swallow.

"Ta Dah!"

I turned back towards Honey, standing nearby. She held a small black case in front of her, wiggling it by the handle. I looked at the box curiously, unsure of how to react.

"Honey, what is—"

"Take it!"

I did as she said, holding the case with both paws. The metal box was strong and durable, and I began to suspect what it held inside. Lifting up the small latch at the front, I lifted the top end of the case up, revealing its contents and confirming my suspicions.

It was a gun.

The slugger was rather small, perfect for small paws like mine. The curved, wooden handle was smooth to the touch. The barrel was built out of tough, cast iron steel. Alongside it in the box, a large, attachable silencer was included. It was an older model, but it still took 9mm rounds.

"Used that sucker for 6 years. It's old fashioned, sure, but trust me, it packs a punch."

She used it for six whole years. I wasn't too sure what she meant by that last statement, but now wasn't the best time to ask Honey about her criminal history. I found myself smiling uncontrollably.

"I think it matches your style, with the suits and all…"

I looked down. I was still in my boxers…

"... Yah, you should get to that."

I obliged, setting the case down and making my way back up the ladder to put on a pair of pants. Tonight's endeavor involved us swimming through the streets, which meant that usual attire wouldn't suffice. I was nearly at the top of the tunnel when Honey shouted from below.

"Oh! And get some clothes to take!"

When I got to my room, I went through my closet, searching for clothes to pack with me. I owned five suits, but I wouldn't need them now. I bent down and grabbed four white undershirts. I picked out a few pairs of pants and an old, worn out pair of jeans. I put on a ragy pair of overalls, still wearing my white, stained undershirt. I looked back into the closet one last time, ensuring that I wasn't missing anything important.

I was about to close the door when I froze. The jacket. The small, brown, worn out jacket. It hung at the end of my closet. It was the only jacket that I've had resized. It was the only one that I've ever repaired. It was the only one that I had kept after all of these years…

I impulsively grabbed my gifted suit before running back down the stairs.

The ground floor of the house was quiet with absence. I could hear muted voices from below. With the bundle of clothes in my paws, I carefully made my way back into the bunker.

"... I put the collars where he told me to, underneath the floorboards in each room."

I heard Mallory's soft, groggy voice as I climbed down. Tyler had asked us to hide the collars in different locations; according to the satellite tracking system, the four of us would be sitting idly in different rooms of the house. After a while, the government will notice our sudden inactivity, and when nobody answers the door when they come, they'll know that something's wrong. It might take a few hours to notice, or it might take a few days. It depended on whoever was watching.

I hopped down into the room again. Mallory held Claire to her side as Honey finished up with the backpacks. There were five bags in all; three decent-sized rucksacks with food, medicine, and supplies, along with two smaller bags with all of our weaponry. I walked over to the table and grabbed my case.

"Alright. It's almost one. Tyler should be out of his house already, so we need to get going. Do we all understand the plan?"

"... _kinda_."

Claire's weak voice was bogged down my sleepiness. She wasn't panicked at all, the bobcat was just too tired to make a scene. Mallory probably filled her in on only a few of the details. Our plan was intricate and complex. Everything needed to occur in a timely fashion. Honey spoke up quietly and consolingly.

"Just do as we say, dear, and everything will be alright."

" _...I'm not a— deer…"_

Honey went back over her checklist one last time as I packed my clothes into one of the stuffed backpacks. The badger concluded her analyst, zipping up each of the bags.

"Okay… I guess this is it."

Honey sighed, pulling the backpacks close to her. This was it. It was now or never.

"Mal, you can take one of these, Claire can take one of those two bags over there…"

Mallory looked back at the two backpacks behind her. She became skeptical.

"You mean the _guns?"_

"They're the lightest things to carry."

Mallory didn't put up an argument. After taking a backpack, she silently walked over to the back wall and grabbed the closest bag, handing it to Claire.

"Alright. Nicky and I will take up the rest. Let's head up to the boat."

The two bobcats tiredly made their way up the ladder. I don't think any of us got a good night's sleep. That didn't matter though; we'll be well awake once we get into the water.

The two climbed out from underneath the sink, leaving Honey and I alone in the bunker. I put on one of the backpacks, flinging it over my shoulder. Honey strapped the other one on and walked over to the back to get the rest of the ammunition. I looked around one last time, knowing that this was the last time I'll climb up the ladder.

"You ready for this?"

Honey turned around, heaving the second bag around her arm. Anxious excitement rattled my bones. My stomach was doing somersaults, and my legs were turning into jelly. I was extremely nervous, but ready nonetheless.

"Do I have a choice?"

Honey smirked, making her way to the bottom of the ladder.

"Of course you don't!"

She paused before going up. Something had changed her demeanor to a more serious tone. She turned around to look at me.

"Just… Be careful, alright?"

Her voice was level and sincere. Restrained emotion poured into the room around us. This was it. This was the end. My voice croaked, cracking unexpectedly.

"—You too."

She nodded and looked around one last time. Memories began to flood the room, slowly filling up the bunker with triggered nostalgia. We were silently submerged by familiar flashbacks and comforting recollections.

The two of us headed up the ladder before we could drown.

* * *

_Thursday, April 7th. 1:06 AM_

The streets were disturbingly quiet. The Grotto was mostly unrecognizable, soaking up the nighttime darkness. It was early April, but it was still moderately cold out. We drifted silently, stopping at the slightest of disturbances. Unlike the district, Downtown Zootopia was lively and active, filling the sky with a haze of light pollution. There were no stars and no moon.

The synthetic afterglow lingered faintly in the sky, just one shade lighter than the ground below. Street lamps glimmered in isolated bubbles of lambency, casting their flickering hues onto the murky water. We avoided all sources of light. We weaved through street lamps and snaked along alleyways, constantly checking for witnesses or pursuers. From what I could tell, police officers were not out tonight.

I paddled the kayak as the other three hunkered down with the backpacks. I was only an amiture at rowing, but being a fox, I was the only one that could see in the dark. The more we progressed, the better my sight became. The Grotto began to grow in detail. The shadowy outlines of buildings became clearly distinguishable. The water in front of us shifted and fluctuated, allowing me to easily direct the boat through the winding roads.

We soon exited the Grotto, pulling onto Water Street. It was essentially a straight-shot to Lupus' house. Unlike the Grotto, the seaside neighborhood was laid out in a grid pattern, providing little cover from those who might be watching. Also, Water street was much more populated. Dilapidated huts and crummy homes were packed closely together, running along either side of the street. We were much more vulnerable here.

I grew increasingly anxious. Paranoia dug into my head, causing me to tremble with fear. I darted my eyes from house to house, looking through windows and watching for movement. There was none; lights were switched off, and the houses were inactive. My muscles became less tense. The neighborhood was peacefully silent. When we were here earlier, the street was bustling with activity. But now, all was quiet.

" _... Nick."_

A ragged whisper came from below. I glanced down and was immediately met by another pair of eyes staring back at me.

" _... Where are we?"_

I heard shuffling from behind. Mallory and Claire were laying side by side near the boat's stern. At the bow, Honey laid on her stomach looking up at me.

" _... Almost there."_

The houses looked almost identical. However, I knew where Lupus' house was after visiting him yesterday. The small, 1-bedroom shack came into view. I was sure it was his, the house was one of the only ones without a canoe parked in front. Lupus had taken his to work.

I pulled into the narrow space between Lupus' house and his neighbor's. Grabbing the rope from inside the boat, I reached over and tethered us to one the house's stilts. I felt the boat begin wobble as the others sat up. Mallory spoke up quietly.

_"Is Tyler here yet?"_

I glanced around. Our view was mostly blocked off by the parallel walls of the adjacent houses. We could only look out into the street ahead of us, and I was the only one that could actually see what was around us. Tyler was nowhere in sight.

_"... I guess not."_

We all sat idly between the two houses. The water passed by beneath us, flowing underneath the stilt-supported homes. I propped the oar against the neighbor's house, stopping us from drifting into it. The distant rumbling of trains haunted us. The blaring echoes of horns bore into my head and body, making me sick with nervousness.

As we continued to sit motionless, I began to realize just how cold it really was. I found myself repositioning my body, sitting sideways across the boat's width. I closed the gap between Honey and I, providing a small amount of insulated warmth. I looked over to Mallory and Claire. The two of them were huddled together next to the backpacks. Both of them were shivering. We waited for roughly ten minutes.

I was scared nearly half to death when an explosion of splashes broke the silence.

I looked over the side of the kayak, between us and Lupus' house. Tyler had appeared suddenly, emerging from beneath the outside wall. He flung his arms up and over the boat's edge, breathing heavily for air. The four of us in the boat were all watching him, waiting for him to gain his composure.

" _UgHh… —Hey guys."_

The otter's voice was shaky and unstable. His body trembled as he used his feet to paddle in place. He spat out some water and cleared his nose.

_*sniff *sniff "—Somebody turned their porch lights on a few blocks down. I swam underwater the rest of the way… —You got the key, right?"_

The four of us nodded. The key was in the backpack Honey was carrying. Tyler shuddered under his breath, looking either direction before stating the obvious.

" _It's pretty chilly."_

Honey retorted.

"Yah, no shit, brainiac!"

Tyler took a few more moments to get comfortable. He looked over the edge of the boat, getting a good look at us. He cleared his throat again, now returning to his usually sharp behavior.

" _Alright. We're supposed to be in the vents by three to meet Lupus…"_

He turned his gaze towards the backpacks beside us. There were five in total.

" _Are those waterproof?"_

Honey responded quietly, pulling one of the bags close to her side.

"These three are, but the ammunition bags aren't."

Tyler sighed, looking into the bottom of the boat. Something near the stern caught his attention.

" _Hey Claire, can you give me that?"_

Tyler pointed towards something behind her. Claire rolled over to pick up a small, circular buoy. She tossed it into the water next to Tyler, who grabbed it with his free paw.

" _We can use this to keep them afloat. Mal, let me see that jacket you're wearing."_

Mallory looked down and unbuttoned her brownish black coat. She lifted it off, handing it to Tyler.

" _Alright, we should get going. Start throwing those bags overboard and jump in. Honey, get me the gun cases."_

We did what we were told, tossing the waterproof backpacks into the water. Despite their density, the three bags were buoyant enough to float just below the surface.

I steadied myself as I slowly dipped my body into the water. The freezing temperatures shot icy pain into my legs, and pulled back almost immediately. I looked towards the back of the boat. Mallory and Claire were also struggling. Near the front, Honey had given the guns to Tyler, and was also preparing to jump in. I dipped my toes in again, further postponing my jump in. I didn't know how I was going to do this…

But suddenly, the edge gave out from under me, and my body was dropped into the icy water.

I was submerged, sinking into a frozen hell. My skin became frozen, and my muscles locked themselves into place. Time seemed to slow down and speed up all at once. I couldn't see. I couldn't breathe. I flailed my legs wildly, attempting to kick myself towards the surface. I shot up with great velocity, catapulting myself halfway onto the capsized boat.

" _HOLY–fROZEN—SHIT!"_

Honey was next to me, holding onto the overturned kayak. I looked behind me, quickly kicking myself around. Mallory and Claire were in the same position with their arms over the bottom of the kayak. We were all shaking uncontrollably.

" _Is everyone ok?"_

I heard Tyler's voice from behind me. I looked over my shoulder. He was hanging onto the gun bags that were piled onto the floatation device.

" _IT's pRETTY FUCKIN COLD."_

Honey's voice was shaky and strained. Tyler began to paddle himself towards the anchored rope, bringing the floating bags with him.

" _We've got no time to waste…"_

Tyler reached for the rope and tugged at it, untethering it from the stilt.

" _... Everybody grab a bag and get going."_

It hurt to move. I let go of the drifting kayak, sinking once more into the icy water. The four of us slowly followed the otter into the street.

We traveled stealthy between houses and shacks. We swam under docks and snaked through back alleys, avoiding light at all costs. The five of us traveled in a single file line. Tyler headed the pack, leading us through the desolate streets. I followed right behind him. Honey held on to the gun bags that floated on the buoy. Claire, too cold to swim, clung to side of the flotation device. Lastly, Mallory swam at the back, staying close to her young daughter. We all paddled slowly and cautiously with our heads bobbing just above the surface.

The water chilled my bones and paralyzed my muscles. I had to move continuously in order to not cramp up. Small waves would slap across my face, smacking me with icy pain. My chest was numb inside, and I couldn't feel my toes and feet.

Before long, we were almost at the edge of the fence. The distant sounds of trains were now much closer. We snuck behind houses, putting as many walls between us and the watchtowers as possible. We were only half a block away when the storm drain came into sight.

We remained treading in place as we looked into the wide, flooded street ahead of us. The sidewalk on the other end had been elevated roughly five feet above water level. The dry, dirt pathway ran along the outside of the fence that surrounded the complex. Watchtowers scanned the area with powerful spotlights. The light pollution above provided little for us to see.

In front of us, a large, barred tunnel was positioned underneath the fence that lead into the railyards. We hid behind a parked canoe. From what I could tell, it appeared to be an 80 foot swim. Honey whispered under her breath.

" _Alright. Tyler leads the way?"_

" _Wait. We need to see how often the patrols pass by."_

We silently waited for the guards to come. I looked either direction, unsure of which way they were coming. I heard a bag unzip to my right. Tyler was getting a watch that he had brought with him. I averted my attention back to the fence. It didn't take long for them to show up.

Two armed officers appeared from the left side of the fence. They marched in unison, carrying heavy-duty assault rifles and flashlights. The two rams chatted amongst themselves as they made their way around the fence. Although they were dressed sharply, the rams walked in a slacked posture, too tired to stand upright. Their steps were slightly out of sync.

The two mammals marched over the tunnel and continued their patrol, tiredly scanning the perimeter. We watched as their backs disappeared into the dark. I heard a click as Tyler started his timer.

We all peeked over the boat as we waited for the next patrol. My eyes were glued to the corner of the fence where the rams had first appeared. Each passing second gave me an additional bit of comfort. After a minute had passed, I felt easy again; we needed as much time as possible. After a moment, a pair of hogs rounded the corner. I heard another click.

" _One minute, sixteen seconds."_

We watched the two of them pass by. They looked even more unprofessional than the guards before them. Tyler spoke quietly.

" _We'll go when the group after this passes."_

The five of us floated in the freezing sea water, silently watching the guards to pass by. The two pigs followed the path down the fence. The luminance of their flashlights soon disappearing into the distance. Tyler had started his timer, and again, we waited.

"— _Mom."_

" _Yes, Claire?"_

" _I'm scared…"_

Their voices were barely audible.

" _You've been doing incredible so far, everything is going to be alright."_

" _Promise?"_

Mallory hesitated. At once, two goats made their way around the corner. I heard Tyler click his watch again.

" _Promise."_

A beam of light shone directly overhead. We all sunk down behind the canoe, barely avoiding the flashlight's range. My neck was met with another wave of ice-cold discomfort.

" _One minute and thirty-eight seconds."_

I looked over to Tyler as he peeked his head over the boat. He located the guards as they walked in the other direction. Neither one had seen us.

" _Alright. We'll have a window in a sec. We need to rush it. You guys ready?"_

We all collectively nodded. Tyler looked up one more time before ducking his head again.

" _On my mark."_

I kicked my legs in the water to loosen them up. My muscles ached and contracted. The cold water was slowly paralyzing me. I couldn't get used to the temperature. But that didn't matter, this was the only way that we were going to–

" _Now!"_

The water around me kicked up and splashed. I immediately found myself in a sudden blitz towards the tunnel. I grabbed my bag and flung my arms and legs, forcing myself to move around the side of the boat. I threw my arms out in front of me, dragging my body through the icy sea. The backpack held me back like an immovable anchor. I kicked sporadically, trying to get it to move with me. Water was splashed up into my face, causing my eyes to sting from the cold saltwater; I couldn't see. I followed the sounds of the frenzy in front of me, flopping my aching body towards the opposite end of the street. For what seemed like an eternity, we hurriedly squirmed through the freezing ocean water.

Time sped back up again when we finally got to the tunnel.

" _Everybody in!"_

I tiredly held onto one of the steel bars at the tunnel entrance, gasping heavily for air. Mallory and Claire rushed in between two of the bars. Honey pushed the buoy through and entered the tunnel herself. Tyler and I were the last two to enter. We sat against the wall with our bags, struggling to catch our breath. Even under the submission of painkillers, my chest still burned. I leaned my head back, trying to conceal my choking, sputtering coughs. Not a single one of us dared to move.

After a few moments, we heard voices from above, and we all went dead silent.

"... you see the game last night?"

"What game?"

"Strikers and Hot Wings."

"... no."

"Strikers won in double overtime."

"Really?"

"Yep. Murray scored 4 goals."

"Damn, should've watched it…"

The officers' voices became distant, slowly fading into the nighttime ambience. I train horn blared loudly from the other end of the tunnel. The five of us traveled silently to the inside opening.

The interior of the complex was broadly open. A series of buildings and warehouses were scattered about. An intricate layout of tracks sprawled out between the stations. Spotlights scanned the gravel lots within the fences, ensuring that no one acted out of line. Our view wasn't the best; we were still a few feet below ground level.

" _The train should be at station 4A."_

I looked up and over the ditch towards the closest station. Large, overhead lights lit up the side of the building. I searched along the outside wall until I spotted some text.

" _6A."_

The station appeared to be 500 feet away. The "V" shaped ditch in front of us was deep and narrow, filled with cold, muddy water. Our plan was to sneak through and make our way to the sewer system underneath the stations. If we could get to 6A, then we can easily make our way to 4A.

" _Let me go out first."_

Tyler did not wait for a response, stepping through the bars and into the ditch. The water only seemed to be a couple feet deep. He sunk down into the murky water, trending backwards and away from us. About five feet out, he scaled up the slanted-wall. He peered over the crest, stealthy observing our surroundings. After a few moments of circumventing, Tyler slid back down and motioned for us to come out.

One by one, we each slid through the bars and sunk into the filthy water. I followed after Tyler, putting my backpack on and stepping out first into the small ditch. Honey held onto the covered buoy as she dipped in, making sure that our weapons remained completely dry. Mallory and Claire were the last ones out.

The five of us moved in a slow, single file line. We hugged the right wall of the ditch with only our heads exposed. The water was fairly shallow, allowing me to keep my feet connected with solid ground. We traveled with extreme caution, freezing at every possible indication of danger. For ten minutes, we sluggishly made our way through the muddy irrigation ditch.

The path ahead of us banked left towards the stations. As we crept along the outside edge, the entrance to the sewers came into view. We could also see that the ditch ran underneath a small, metal bridge. It was a straight shot from here. The sewers were only 100 feet away.

As we approached the bridge, our slow pace seemed to go even slower. We were about ten feet away when the five of us stopped dead in our tracks.

"Lieutenant, need I remind you the importance of this shipment?"

A hulking water buffalo came into view from the right. The officer spoke with a gruff, husky tone. He began to cross the bridge as he talked into the radio.

"Well what the fuck do you want me to do!? We need to get these inoculation shipments out _now_!"

The angry buffalo was almost at the left end of the bridge when he stopped suddenly. He paused, listening to the voice on the other end. His demeanor had quickly shifted from enraged to intrigued.

" _Really?_ By Sunday, huh?"

The water buffalo turned around, now pacing back across the bridge. He listened quietly to the radio. His lone footsteps echoed against the metal structure, causing me to shudder with anxiety. He stopped at right side, and again, turned around. His refusal to step off the bridge was utterly unnerving. We all stood there, paralyzed by fear. We were all within his sight, and to see us, all he had to do was look down…

"Look, we just need to get these out to the outer districts. Every town. Every subdivision… Yes! Everywhere."

The water buffalo stopped at the middle of the bridge. He walked over to the edge closest to us. My mind ran rampant with a swarm of stressful thoughts.

_He's gonna see us. He is definitely going to see us._

"Lieutenant, you know exactly what these are for..."

The buffalo spoke with a quieter voice. He stared blankly ahead, focusing entirely on his conversation. His eyes ran along the fence behind us.

_No! Stop looking around!_

"Yes… —Alright, we can arrange that later…"

The officer spoke in a concluding fashion. The call was going to end soon. I wasn't sure if my shaking was caused by coldness or by pure horror.

"... Alright. Speak with you soon."

The buffalo hung up, strapping the radio back in his belt. He rubbed his head and sighed, still looking out over the edge of the bridge.

_Don't see us. Don't see us. Please don't see us._

The officer remained stationary, silently enjoying his alone time. Little did he know that he actually wasn't by himself. He was completely oblivious to the five sets of eyes that stared directly at him from below.

_What if he has seen us?_

He cleared his throat, spitting into the water below. The saliva nearly hit Tyler in the head. The officer continued to meditate in false solitude. My heart was pounding.

_There's no way he hasn't seen us._

The buffalo's eyes began to scan his surroundings. They swept from left to right, looking out across the gravel lots between him and the fence. My heart was about to tear itself out of my chest. I began to worry that the officer would actually be able to hear my loud, pulsing heartbeat.

_Please. Don't. Look. Dow—_

"We have a code 35-B, attempted break-in at the Sprigg Street entrance. Please respond."

The air was fragile. I could hear the silence that followed. Nobody moved a muscle. I looked up at the officer who stood on the bridge. He was staring straight ahead. He pulled out his radio again.

"This is Captain Bogo, I am on my way."

The water buffalo turned around and walked off the bridge. He didn't see us.

The call wasn't about the five of us. Someone else was trying to break in near the Sprigg Street entrance, which was over on the East end of the complex. We remained frozen for many more moments. My heart was in my throat, and I found it difficult to breathe.

Tyler started to shift again, and I eventually followed suit. In complete silence, we made a beeline for the sewer entrance, traveling much faster than before.

* * *

_Thursday, April 7th. 2:05 AM_

" _That was way too fucking close!"_

I flung my body onto the concrete, dragging myself into a sitting position. Honey sat beside me against the sewer wall. Mallory and Claire did the same, sprawling out on the dry surface. Tyler remained standing. We were all shaking violently, having spent the last forty-five minutes in freezing waters. Tyler chuckled under his breath.

" _I thought we were fucked. Somebody tries to break in at the same time we do… What are the odds?"_

He was right. We were lucky. Extremely lucky. I rested my head against the back wall and looked around. The sewer systems were fairly small. The semicircle-shaped ceiling went down to the floors on either side. A shallow pool of feces-filled water ran down the middle, with spaces on either side for workers to walk. The cistern was dark and claustrophobic. It smelled horrendous.

" _Everybody take their clothes off."_

" _Wait– What?"_

Honey was confused by Tyler's odd request. The otter began to undress in front of us, and due to the darkness of the sewers, I was the only one that could see it.

" _Our clothes are soaked and freezing— Hyperthermia can affect us in as little as twenty minutes. Take your clothes off."_

I looked away when Tyler pulled down his soaked pants. The others continued to stare at the source of the voice, unaware that he was half naked.

We all began to undress. It was significantly more difficult to move now. Gravity seemed to quadruple in intensity, and my body was stuck to the ground. It felt like an elephant was sitting on me. I couldn't feel my legs and feet. I lifted my arms up to my chest in an attempt to unfasten my damp overalls. My fingers slid around the metal clip, unable to find a proper grip. It was nearly impossible to maneuver my numb fingers. I looked back up; the others were struggling as well.

" _Nick. We need you to lead the way. Our station should be down the tunnel, and you're the only one that can see."_

Even though he probably couldn't see it, I nodded.

It took us over five minutes to undress. It was pitch black in the sewer, so everyone was somewhat comfortable stripping down into their underwear… Sometimes, my natural-born gift of night vision can be a curse.

Honey brought out towels for us to dry off, and eventually, we were warm enough to starting walking. We grabbed our bags and slowly made our way through the ill-treated corridors. We stayed close, dragging our paws against the wall. Falling into the waste-filled sewage was the last thing we water to do. I directed us through the passageways, looking cautiously around every corner.

We traveled for nearly five minutes until we reached an entryway into one of the stations above. Tyler tapped my shoulder.

" _What does that say?"_

I looked up at the small trapdoor above. Stenciled spray-paint marked the entryway's bottom

" _5A."_

" _Come on, let's keep moving."_

We continued on through the darkness. I couldn't get used to the smell; the stench only seemed to get worse. My legs were finally beginning to regain their feeling. For another five minutes, we snuck through the filthy sewers.

And then, we arrived at another ladder.

_4A_

Our station.

We all settled down next to the entrance. Claire sat in Mallory's lap, exceedingly tired from the long journey here. Honey laid down on the concrete, using a backpack as a pillow. Tyler grabbed one of bags and took me aside.

" _Alright. It is currently…"_

Tyler looked down at his watch, peering closely through the darkness. He was still in his underwear.

" _... —2:23 AM. We need to be up in the vents to meet Lupus by 3:00. We're behind on time, here, so you need to be fast."_

Tyler knelt down beside the bag to unzip the back pocket. He shuffled through the stuffed backpack, eventually finding what he was looking for. Tyler stood up as he pulled out Ben's bright, orange jumpsuit.

" _Put this on."_

I followed his orders, stepping into the one-piece uniform. It was a loose fit, but fortunately, spotted hyenas were only a few inches taller than red foxes. I shoved my arms into the long sleeves and pulled the neck-piece up to my chin.

Next, Tyler handed me a small, metal necklace with a matchbox taped to the side. It was the fake collar. I placed it around my neck, hiding it with the top of my uniform. Tyler grabbed a flashlight and turned it on for a brief moment, shining it brightly at my face.

" _Perfect."_

Tyler directed me back to the rest of the group. Dim light crept through the creases of the trapdoor above, allowing us to see somewhat. The three were still sitting in their spots. Claire looked like she was falling asleep in her mother's lap. When I got to the ladder, Tyler stepped in front of me to give me my final instructions.

" _The blueprints should be in one of the maintenance closets on the basement level. Don't talk. Avoid eye contact. And for fuck's sake, don't piss off any officers…"_

Tyler reached into the bag, pulling out a jingling set of keys.

" _... These will get you into almost all of the locked doors. Once you get the blueprints, find a vent we can all get into and head back to us."_

I grabbed the keys from Tyler's paw.

" _Good luck."_

I turned to face the ladder, preparing to climb up.

" _Hey Nick."_

I looked back over at the sound of Honey's voice. I could barely see her as she sat up from her resting place.

" _Remember what I said at the house… Be careful, alright?"_

I swallowed and nodded. My legs were trembling with anxiousness. My stomach churned with dread. It was now or never.

It was my time to shine. The others were depending on me now. It was my responsibility to get the map and find a vent we could all get into. I had less than half an hour.

I glanced at the others one last time before heading up the ladder.

* * *

I emerged to find myself in a small, dirty room. The trapdoor was positioned at the far right corner of the closet, with the main doorway on the other end. The small space was illuminated partially, allowing me to take in my surroundings. The room was filled with dirty sanitation supplies. A raggy old broom leaned up against the wall. Empty buckets were placed under leaky pipes. An empty, metal shelf was tucked in against the front corner of the room. I looked up along the walls and immediately found what I needed.

A large air vent was installed in the back wall.

That was how we were going to get in, but now we needed to know where we were going. I walked towards the door and made my way into the hallway.

The basement was a maze of dimly lit corridors and small rooms. The ceiling was constantly rumbling, shaking from the trains that traveled above. Workers walked down the hallways with mops and brooms. For them, it was just another day at the job; for me, it was a suicidal attempt to escape.

Mammals stared at me, a lot more than what I felt comfortable with. Officers stared me down as I passed by, and employees looked down at their new coworker. That was what I was; a new coworker, not a trespassing criminal. I was one of them, a law-abiding worker who was assigned the late shift. With that in mind, I continued forward.

Although I looked like I knew where I was going, I was completely lost. I stopped by at a few empty closets, coming up with nothing. I made my searches every few minutes. I couldn't look suspicious in front of the officers. By my third closet, I was still without any blueprints. I walked down to the far southern end of the building and found myself in front of a labeled door.

**SANITATION DEPARTMENT**

I walked into the small, windowless room. The place was lit up by a single, hanging lightbulb. The concrete walls and floor were an ugly shade of yellow. To the left, a few tables were set up with workers playing poker. To the right, a gazelle sat at a desk with his feet kicked up. He was sound asleep. At the back of the room was a small storage closet. I immediately made my way there.

I opened the door and looked around. A mop bucket sat in the back corner. On the ground, an assortment of different tools and equipment were scattered on the floor. The shelves above were fully stocked with a wide selection of cleaning products. There were no blueprints. Again.

I stepped back out and looked at the clock.

" _2:32"_

Fuck.

I wasn't sure what to do, and I was quickly running out of time. I needed to get those plans and get the others into the duct work. Lupus was going to meet us at three, and I didn't know how I was going to be able to—

"Hey! Would you look who it is?"

The familiar voice caught me off guard. I turned toward the poker table, immediately horrified by who stood before me.

It was Ben.

"Nicolas Wilde! How'ya doing man?"

He said my name. Shit. I looked back at the officer at the desk. He was still sound asleep. I turned back to face the jubilant hyena.

_Just act natural._

"Oh… —um Hi… I'm— uh… I'm doing good."

_That's not natural you dumbfuck!_

The hyena did not seem to notice my obvious anxiety. I looked over his shoulder. The other predators weren't paying attention to our conversation. It was just him and me.

"Say… When did you get put into sanitation?"

_Shit– uh… Ok. You got this…_

"Oh… Well… I… uh— got a promotion!"

_More like a demotion you idiot!_

Ben continued to act like his usual hyperactive self. His voice was high pitched and lively.

"Well, sanitation welcomes you! It's good seeing you here cause I actually don't work the night shifts…"

"... Really?"

"Yep. A friend called in sick today and I was the fill-in. I had to stop by his house because— uh…"

The hyena looked down at the jumpsuit he was wearing. The uniform was extremely baggy, sagging down far below his waist. The pant legs were tightly rolled up, and the sleeves hung over his paws.

"I… uh— needed to borrow his suit. I lost mine."

He didn't know. He didn't know why he lost his uniform, or where it could have gone. He didn't know where it was, and he definitely didn't know that I was wearing it. I took his blind ignorance to my advantage.

"Oh… That sucks… I hope you find it."

"Oh, thanks man. Anyways! I was wondering if you wanted to play some poker with me and the boys!"

The hyena pointed back over his shoulder. The other predators purposely ignored his statement, still fully involved in their game. I had the feeling that they didn't like Ben.

He stood there waiting for an answer. I fumbled with my words as I struggled to find an excuse.

"... I uh… I can't—… because…"

_Think of something! Come on!_

"I… am… on—… a uh—… a _mission._ "

_What?_

"Oooooooh. I like missions! What type of mission?"

_Ummm… Okay, just go with it._

I looked back at the security guard. The gazelle still hung his head back, succumbed by deep sleep. I had to think fast.

"I need to… um— I need to get the building's duct blueprints to the… —uh… some other workers…"

"Ah! The blueprints! They're down the hall, to the left, third door to your right!"

I didn't even need to ask. He knew the basement like the back of his paw. Ben had told me everything I needed to know.

"Oh! ...uh— Thanks! …I uh— need to get going, now."

"Ok! Good luck on your mission!"

I left the room as quickly as possible, mentally patting myself on the back Although I personally hated Caesar now, he was right about one thing…

Ben was awfully slow.

I rushed down the dark corridor. Workers mopped up floors and repaired leaky pipes. The walls were layered with cracks and chipping paint. The whole place smelled like shit. I quickly made my way onwards, turning left at the first opportunity. There was no time to lose.

I mentally counted the doors to my right. The first one lead into a small office with a security guard sitting by the telephone. The second one was the entrance to the boiler room. Workers threw coal into the massive furnace, sending hot air throughout the complex to combat the nighttime chill. The third door was my destination; it wasn't a closet. I looked either direction before peering under the door. The room appeared to be a small, vacant office.

I wasn't sure if I was allowed entry, but that didn't matter. I pulled out the ring of keys flipped through them, trying to find the correct one. I looked cautiously down the hall to ensure that I was not being watched. I tried to fit each key into the lock, but the handle above me wouldn't budge. Finally, at my sixth key, the door creaked open.

I looked down the hall one final time before closing the door behind me.

The room was neat and tidy. There was a small desk near the door. Behind it, towards the back wall, there was a tall bookshelf. A bulletin board hung on the wall to my right. Schedules and documents were tacked onto the cork surface. The room was pitch black, making it difficult to see what I was doing.

I first checked in the desk drawers. I hopped onto the chair to get a good view of what was inside. Nothing but office supplies and junk mail filled up the cabinets. Next, I climbed up onto the desk itself, trying to see if the blueprints were just lying around somewhere. The surface was fairly clean, and I could quickly tell that the blueprints weren't there. I glanced back at the cork board across the room. The tacked papers were all small-to-decent sized. The blueprints would have to be much bigger. The only place left to look was the bookshelf.

I jumped back on to the floor to get a good look at it. Books full of files and documents were stacked in lines along the bottom three rows. Above them, an assortment of various manuals were compiled and organized into different sections. I looked up to the top where something caught my attention.

A large, black portfolio stood upright on the top row. It was tall and skinny, large enough to hold large construction paper. I peered closely at the side. Although it was difficult to see, I was barely able to make out the text that was engraved onto the side.

_K & E Construction Company_

That was exactly what I needed. The blueprints were no doubt in that portfolio. However, getting to it wouldn't have been a problem if I wasn't a fox. Due to my insufficient height, the blueprints were going to be difficult to get to.

I walked over to the shelves and pressed down on the wood. The bookshelf seemed to be pretty well built, and if it could hold all of those books, than it could hold me as well. I started to climb up to the top of the bookshelf.

The possibility of the bookshelf tipping over on to me was almost zero-to-none. The back paneling appeared to be nailed to the wall behind it. I made my way up, passing the top of the desk. I was already halfway up, and getting the portfolio would be—

_*jiggle *jiggle_

I darted my head towards the door. The handle was shaking. Someone was coming, and I need to hide. I started to make my way down the shelf...

and then the door opened.

A large, hulking bull walked through the open doorway. His eyes shot up to meet mine. I was paralyzed, completely unable to move. My heartbeat stopped, frozen like the air around us.

"What are you doing here?!"

His voice penetrated the room with harsh vibrations. I wasn't sure how to respond. I wasn't sure how could make an excuse. No. There was no excuse. I was not supposed to be in here.

"Answer me!"

My mouth opened, but words did not come out. My brain stopped working. I forgot how to speak. I silently stammered under my breath. I glanced back up at the portfolio. It was only a few feet away. I looked back down and was horrified by what the bull had in his hooves. The officer sighed and clicked a button on the shock remote…

Nothing happened.

I began to panic. I wasn't being shocked. My collar wasn't going off because my collar wasn't real. It was a fake, and he was going to find out. There was nowhere to run. I was trapped.

The bull pressed the button again. Still, nothing.

"Hmm?"

The officer started to click the remote profusely, mashing his hoof into the blinking button. He began to walk closer, pointing the remote at different angles and different directions. The collar still wasn't going off. He was mad. He was enraged. He got angrier every time he clicked the button. He was only a foot away from me now. The collar still wasn't shocking me. He had enough of it.

The bull hit me with the butt end of the remote, sending me flying into the back wall. I landed hard on the cement floor.

"GET BACK TO WORK!"

My vision was cloudy. My head was throbbing violently. My ears were ringing. I couldn't breathe. I laid on my side as I watched the bull grab something from the desk. He turned away from me. He was mumbling under his breath, and I could barely hear what he said next.

" _...stupid fucking remotes."_

The bull slammed the door behind him, leaving me in the dark room alone.

I slowly threw myself onto my stomach. The fall had knocked the wind out of me. My chest burned with a sharp, fiery pain. I sucked in as much oxygen as possible while my head cleared up. I still needed those blueprints.

I looked back up at the towering bookshelf in front of me. The portfolio still sat there on the top row. I began to drag myself to the base of the shelf, propping myself up against the bottom row.

_Ok, Wilde. We got this. Get up…_

I lifted my arm up, reaching for the first wooden shelf. I flipped my body around and pulled myself up to my feet. The ringing in my ears had stopped, but my head still throbbed painfully.

_Alright. Just like the ladder in the bunker. One step at a time._

I pulled myself up in an attempt to reach the second row. My chest shot up with another stinging wave of pain. This was definitely not what the doctor had in mind for my recovery. I couldn't reach the shelf, and so I let myself back down.

_Fuck. Okay. You can do this. Dig deep._

I readjusted my grip on the first shelf. After a moment of rest, I mentally counted down.

_3… 2… 1… Now!_

Another wave of pain hit me as I launched my body forward. I managed to grab the second shelf, pulling myself one step higher.

_Nice! That's good! One down, like… 8 more to go!_

The officer could come back at any moment. With that in mind, I continued to drag my body up the bookshelf as fast as possible. It became a pattern. Pull up, stop, breathe; pull up, stop, breathe. I continued this rhythm until I was at the top.

The portfolio leaned up against the back panel of the bookshelf. I reached for it with my free paw, causing it to tip over and fall. The large folder hit the ground with a silent smack. Now, I had to get back down.

The descent was much more easier. Instead of jumping, I steadied myself down on each individual shelf. The trip down went by quickly, and before I knew it, I was on the ground.

_Ok ok ok. What do we have here?_

I unfolded the portfolio to find exactly what I was looking for. A selection of different blueprints were now at my disposal. I flipped through the papers, trying to find the one I needed.

_Plumbing… electric... floor layout…_

It was one of the last blueprints.

… _Ductwork._

I pulled the sheet of paper out, rolling it up and setting it down to the side. I took the portfolio and folded it up, placing it onto the bottom row of the bookshelf. There was no way in hell I was getting it back up there.

I picked up the blueprints on the ground and quickly made my way out the door. I traveled stealthily through the hallway. Nobody need to know what I was doing. I went back the way I first came, and as fast as possible, I made my way to the sewer entrance.

* * *

" _Guys…"_

There was no response. I looked down into the sewer system from the trapdoor above. The others weren't there.

_Shit._

I set the blueprints down and climbed into the tunnel. I was instantly met by a wave of cool air. I hopped down onto the ground, looking either direction.

" _Guys!"_

Still, nothing. There was no sign of them anywhere. Where on earth could they have—

Suddenly, the sewage water began to shift and churn. Four figures slowly got onto their feet and made their way out of the water.

_They were hiding in shit._

" _Well Nick, I hope your… uh— little adventure was a bit better than ours…"_

Tyler slowly stepped onto the concrete in front of me. I was utterly baffled by their hiding spot. They all got onto the concrete and began to dry off. With them, they brought the horrendous smells of mammal waste.

" _What… Why did you… How—"_

" _A maintenance crew started climbing down the ladder while you were away. This was the quickest way to hide—"_

Honey retorted.

" _Yah, and the most IDIOTIC!"_

" _Shhh."_

Honey crouched down next to one of the backpacks to grab a towel. The bags were soaked in waste. Fortunately, the gun bags were only partially submerged, keeping the contents inside mostly dry.

" _Nick, you're bleeding."_

" _Wha—"_

I lifted my paw to the back of my head. I hadn't even realized the fact that I was bleeding heavily. The back of my jumpsuit was stained in crimson. Tyler quickly looked at the gash before continuing to wipe himself down.

" _We can patch that up when we have time."_

The four of them began to put on some clothes. I changed out of my uncomfortable jumpsuit and back into normal clothing. Due to the severity of the situation, there was nothing too humiliating about being in our underwear. Desperate times calls for desperate measures Not even Claire minded being half naked.

I was mostly impressed by the young bobcat. She seemed to have followed along with their sudden plans to hide without question. Although Claire appeared to be enjoying none of what was happening, she was brave enough to go through everything thus far. She and her mother began to change in silence.

" _You have the blueprints, right?"_

" _Yah— Yah, I have them."_

" _Good. We have no time to waste."_

We stuffed the towels into a single bag to isolate the horrid smell. After everyone was ready and fully clothed, we all climbed the ladder that lead into the storage closet above.

The vent was roughly six or seven feet off the ground. There was no possibility of us getting to it without a way to climb up. We looked around, and Tyler quickly came up with a solution.

" _Honey, help me move this thing."_

While the two of them pushed the empty shelf toward the wall beneath the vent, Mallory quickly went to work with the back of my head. She used one of the medical kits to bandage up my wound.

" _Doesn't look like it needs stitches…"_

She wrapped one of the gauges around my head and cleaned up the dry blood. Honey and Tyler had gotten the shelf in position by the time Mallory was finished.

" _Alright, we'll use this as a ladder. Keep watch while I unscrew the vent."_

After grabbing one of the bags, Tyler quickly climbed up the shelf and began to unhinge the screws to the vent. The four of us remained below, getting our backpacks together and preparing to climb up. I put the blueprints into one of the outside pockets of my backpack.

We heard a series of squeaks and scratches as Tyler unscrewed the first few bolts. After about two minutes, were told to climb up. This ascent was slightly easier than the last. My chest was still in pain, and the additional weight of the backpack didn't help. Still, I managed to throw myself up to the top row.

" _Everybody in. Quickly!"_

We all filed into the ductwork, and Tyler repositioned the lid behind us. Other than the fact that the screws were loosened, anyone that stepped into the room wouldn't have been able to notice anything out of place.

" _Nick, let me see the map."_

I pulled out the blueprints from the backpack, unrolling it out in front of us.

The blueprints consisted of two separate layouts. The basement was displayed on the bottom half of the paper. The building's ductwork was highlighted in a bright yellow, making it easy to interpret where they were. There was one, main vent that ran down the basement's central hallway. Smaller, individual ducts branched out from the main stem, snaking through smaller offices and closets. Recognizing the layout of the basement, I was able to locate the sewer entrance on the map.

" _We're right here."_

Tyler nodded as I pointed to the storage closet near the back end of the building. Now that we knew where we were, we searched for the bathroom where we would meet Lupus.

" _He said that he was going to the one closest central loading platforms."_

We looked up at the top half of the paper. I first spotted the train tracks that ran through the western side of the building. To the right, a series of different platforms hugged the train tracks. It was fairly easy to locate where Lupus worked. I scanned the area for any bathrooms. The large, open space was connected by a central hallway that ran parallel to the tracks...

" _There!"_

Tyler pointed to a small bathroom just off of the hallway; Restroom #7. An identical room was positioned next to it; the women's restroom. I looked around for any other laboratories in the area. The one Tyler had pointed to seemed to be the closest one.

" _Nice. Now, how do we get there?"_

I glanced back down to the basement layout. The central air vent appeared to turn upward at the end of the hallway. I looked back and forth at the two layouts, trying to locate where the air vent went up to. After a brief moment of observation, I realized that the main hallway of basement was nearly identical to the hallway above. The two corridors ran on top of one another, slicing the building into western and eastern halves. Likewise, the ductwork was almost the same. A central air vent ran just below the alway above, and smaller vents branched out from that. I pointed this out to Tyler, and together, we devised a plan.

If we followed the main air vent north towards the end of the hall, than we would emerge just below the hallway on ground level. If we traveled southbound through the central duct, than we could easily get to the vent that connected to the bathroom.

" _We don't have much time. We need to hurry."_

The air vents were about two feet in height, which allowed us to crawl on all fours without much of a problem. It was pitch black, but that wasn't an issue; I had the ability to see in the dark, plus, we had flashlights. We knew where we were going since we had the map. Getting to Lupus shouldn't have been too much of an issue…

That _is_ if the vents weren't blasting hot air throughout the building.

In complete contrast to our previous obstacles, the five of us were now faced with a new challenge: avoiding heat exhaustion. As we got closer to the central vent, the heat only intensified. Hot air blew strongly into our faces, and it was difficult to breathe. Muffled episodes of coughing could be heard from behind.

I remember when I was a kid, I would watch these spy movies where the protagonist would be trapped in a room, or would be trying to break into a secret government facility, and would have to use the air vents as a means of transport. The air ducts would be easy to maneuver around, they would be clean, and they would be illuminated from some unseen light. According to the movies, the ductwork was a smart and easy way to get around.

I now realized though, that the movies were horribly wrong.

In reality, air vents are cramp, dark, dusty, and claustrophobic. The hot blasts of air made us soak our clothes with sweat. Sharp, jagged edges stuck out of the metal walls. If we weren't careful, we could get a nasty cut. There was dust everywhere, and with it all blowing at your face, breathing it in was simply unavoidable. On top of all of that, four of us had recently swam in sewage. The hot stench suffocated me.

When we got to the end of the hall, we were met with yet another obstacle.

The air duct suddenly slanted ninety degrees upward, rising up about ten feet before turning back the other way. There was no way up. Honey whispered loudly from behind.

" _What's the hold up?"_

Tyler stood up turned around, leaning his back against the wall.

" _We're at the end of the hall… I wasn't expecting this part to be so tall."_

" _Can you climb up it?"_

Tyler shone his flashlight up the vertical shaft. It was about two feet across. He inspected the sides of the vent, finding nowhere to get a grip.

" _It's too wide across for me to scale. Nick, you think you can climb it?"_

I took another glance back up at the top of the vent. It looked like a daunting task. For me to climb up, I would have to extend my arms and legs out to either side of the vent to push myself up. I was unsure that my chest would handle, it already was flared up by the continued coughing.

" _Tyler… I don't know if I can climb— my chest is killing me, and I don't know how–"_

" _I can climb it."_

Claire spoke up from the back of the pack. Tyler shone his flashlight down the vent. Mallory was the next to speak.

" _Are you sure about that, Claire?"_

" _Yeah! Cats are good at climbing!"_

Claire was right. When it came to agility and flexibility, bobcats had the rest of us beat. Tyler pointed his flashlight back up the shaft. There was a stationary fan at the top of the tunnel. Tyler had an idea.

" _Alright. Claire, crawl up to the front."_

Honey and I moved to the side, allowing the bobcat to squeeze by. Tyler began to dig into the backpack closest to him, unable to find what he was looking for.

" _Honey, did you pack any rope with us?"_

" _Yah, it's in Nick's bag. What are you–"_

" _Nick, give me your bag."_

I dragged my bag beside me, pushing toward Tyler and Claire. He unzipped the front pocket and found a spool of thick climbing rope. He unwound the rope and handed one end to Claire.

" _You see that fan up there?"_

Tyler shone the flashlight up to the top of the vent. Claire nodded silently.

" _Tie this rope to your tail. Once you get to the ledge, tie it to one of the supports. You know how to tie, right?"_

Claire nodded once more as she reached behind her back. Tyler's plan was simple; use the rope to climb up. Claire had secured the rope to her tail and prepared to climb up.

" _Okay, great. Nick and I will be down here to catch you if you fall. Be careful."_

Claire nodded one last time before heading on up. She extended her paws to either side of the vent, scaling up the vertical shaft. I positioned myself next to Tyler at the bottom.

Mallory crawled beside Honey, anxiously watching her daughter ascend towards the fan.

" _Please be careful, sweetie!"_

The rope swayed from left to right as the bobcat continued onward. She was about two thirds of the way up. Claire's arms and legs began to shake. It looked like she was getting tired. Despite this, she pushed herself closer to the ledge. She was ten feet above us, just a few inches away from the ledge.

But suddenly, the fan turned on.

Claire shrieked. Her foot slipped. She quickly dug her claws into the metal and managed to stop herself from falling. Hot air was now blowing straight down on us. We didn't have anywhere to tie the rope now.

" _Keep going, Claire!"_

The bobcat fought against the wind and resumed her ascent. She threw herself onto the ledge and climbed up into the vent. Her silhouette disappeared momentarily before appearing back over the ledge. Mallory sighed with relief.

" _See if you can find anywhere to tie the rope off!"_

Tyler had to yell. The fan was deafening. Hot wind swiftly blew past air ears, preventing us from hearing properly.

" _... can— ….. —ee"_

" _What? We can't hear you!"_

" _I can't see!"_

Tyler glanced back down at the flashlight in his paws. He warned Claire before throwing the flashlight up to her. She managed to catch it on the second try. The bobcat disappeared into the darkness. Our only source of light was the faint luminance that spilled into the shaft from the ductwork above. Honey grunted as she repositioned herself against the dust vent wall.

" _Fuck it's hot."_

We all agreed silently. The air vents were hot when we got in, but now, we were right next to the heat's source. My clothes were completely soaked with sweat. Dust stuck to my wet, matted fur. I kinda wished that we were still in our underwear. Honey was wrong. It wasn't hot. It was scorching.

" _It's tied!"_

I looked back up at. Claire's head poked out over the edge. The rope was fully taught. Tyler threw his backpack on and grabbed the bottom end of the rope.

" _Well, here goes nothing."_

The otter used the rope to pull himself up. He used his feet to balance himself upright, kicking the sides of the shaft with his short legs. I watched as he slowly made his way up with the oversized back hanging below him.

" _Where did she learn how to knot?"_

Honey had asked the question to Mallory, who had stayed mostly quiet throughout the night. Having a normal conversation now felt odd, yet comforting.

" _Oh—… She learned it from her father..."_

The normal conversation was dropped instantly. Now wasn't the time to bring up sensitive subjects. I remembered the event like it was yesterday. I remember seeing everything from behind that chain link fence. I remember the rain, the panic, the screams—

" _Alright I'm up! Next one can go!"_

I snapped out of my daze and quickly grabbed my bag. I stood up in the vent, pulling down on the hanging rope. It seemed stable enough. I put my backpack on and began to pull myself upward.

I outstretched my legs and scaled up the ventilation shaft, using the rope to pull my lower half up. The backpack pulled down on me significantly, it's like I was carrying a boulder. Tyler made it look easy, and his back weighed more than he did.

My feet often slid down either side of the metal walls. The unrelenting release of hot air made the journey much more difficult. My feet were damp with sweat, and getting a grip was a challenge. Eventually, I pulled myself up to the top, throwing my backpack onto the ledge before climbing in.

Honey and Mallory soon made their way up, bringing up the rest of our bags with them. The fan was close to a foot above the ground floor ductwork, allowing them to pass by without getting hit.

After we were all up, Tyler untied the rope from a large, protruding bolt, and together, we continued on through the air ducts.

* * *

It was a straight shot down the central vent. The conditions here were slightly more tolerable than those in the basement vents. Still though, it was unbearably hot. We quickly crawled through the air ducts, using the blueprints as a guide. After a few minutes of scuffling, we eventually got to our turn.

“ _Bathroom #7 is to the left. Right here."_

We scurried around the corner and crawled into the smaller vent. Mammals of normal size would be unable to travel through spaces of this size. Still, for us, it was cramped. because of this, we left our bags in the central duct.

When we meet Lupus, a couple things need to happen. After we give him the key to unlock his collar, he'll direct us to where the shipment is being stored so we can hide in the crates. Once we're in, Lupus will help carry the cargo onboard, and once he see the opportunity, he'll hide his collar and join us in hiding.

We finally got to the bathroom vent. It was a small slit in the floor, too small for any of us to crawl out of. The glimmering yellow light from the small laboratory filtered in into the vent.

Lupus was not there.

" _Shit."_

I turned toward Tyler. He was looking worriedly at his watch.

" _It's 3:23. Fuck!"_

The trip through the vents had taken us far longer than we first expected. We were supposed to meet Lupus at three, and now, we were at the bathroom, twenty-three minutes late. There was nothing else we could do but sit and wait...

Lupus did not come.

We considered the possibilities of leaving him behind, but we needed him to tell us where the exports were being stored. We remained sitting next to the bathroom vent in silence...

Lupus did not come.

The heat was getting to us now. We've been in the vents for over half an hour now. Taking our shirts off didn't help at all. Sweat had drenched us completely, and thirst soon became the forefront of our thoughts. Despite this, we still waited...

Lupus did not come.

Tension was slowly growing. The five of us were overcome by nervousness. Feelings of anxiety filled the claustrophobic ductwork. We considered the possibility of leaving, but were too far into our plans. There was no going back...

Still, Lupus did not come.

We were drowning. Drowning in uncertainty. Drowning in unrest. The walls surrounding us were slowly closing in. Our paws and feet were bounded. There was no escape. Silence grew into audible noise, and that noise was deafening.

That was precisely when Tyler snapped.

" _We took way too fucking long! We should have left earlier. No, we should have met at a later time! Why didn't we meet at a later time!"_

His dry voice echoes off of the metal walls. Tyler was yelling far too loudly. The bathroom was empty, but our voices could still carry.

" _Hey! Keep it down."_

" _What the hell were we thinking? —The fuck was the backup plan! We should've made a backup plan! Why didn't we make a backup plan!"_

" _Tyler! Come on!"_

The otter was furious.

" _No Nick! We should have thought this through! We should have done something different!"_

" _This was the only way, Tyler."_

" _Well we should've found a new one! —There was so much shit that could have gone wrong! We took way too many chances! How the actual fuck did we think that this would work!?"_

" _He can still come, Tyler."_

" _It's 3:40! Three-fucking-forty! He isn't coming back! Can't you fucking see that!?"_

I didn't want to admit it, but he was right. I would be lying to myself if I thought otherwise. Tyler still went on.

" _Where did we go wrong!? We were on time! Everything was going so well! Until— Until…"_

Tyler leaned back in thought.

" _... It's your fault."_

"— _What?"_

" _Yeah! You took too long! You took way too fucking long!"_

" _What?! You can't possibly blame this on me!"_

" _Maybe if you didn't get your ass beaten-in every two seconds, then maybe we could actually get somewhe—"_

The handle of bathroom began to jiggle. At once, the two of us went silent. Although the argument had ceased, the tension remained.

The door opened. It was not Lupus.

A scrawny leopard walked in and took a seat on the toilet. Tyler and I stared eachother down as we listened to the leopard urinate. He wasn't right. He wasn't in his right mind, but then again, he had a reason to be upset; we all did. We missed the opportunity. We couldn't go on without Lupus. He was the one that was supposed to organize our departure. He was supposed to get us into the soon-to-be-shipped crates. Without him, we were stuck in the compound.

However, he was right about one thing. I got hurt _a lot._ I was naturally accident prone, and that run-in with the officer was no exception to that fact. The more I thought about it though, the more I second guessed myself.

_Was it really my fault?_

That conflict with the officer added a few extra minutes. If he didn't show up, than I would've been out of their much earlier. But then again, I had no control of that. Although I wasn't completely sure of myself, I came back to my original conclusion.

_It wasn't my fault._

The leopard finished his business with a flush. After briefly washing his paws, he walked out of the room, returning it to a tense silence. We sat there quietly for many more moments.

" _We went through shit– Literally went through shit to get here…"_

Tyler was no longer yelling. His voice was soft and grief-stricken.

" _We make it this far, only to get fucked over by poor time management…"_

The plan was a lost cause. We had to find someway out of here. Turning ourselves over wasn't an option. If we stayed here in the confinement zone, we were dead; plain and simple. Honey spoke up for the first time in a while.

" _So what now?"_

Tyler looked up from his drifting gaze. He went deep into thought. Ideas seemed to spew from his head, but nothing clicked. He went over possibilities. He dug deep into his brain. He searched for a solution. He searched for a new way out. He went over everything that he knew, everything that we knew. He played everything out in his head; every scenario, best and worst. He always had an idea. He always had a plan…

" _Fuck the plan…"_

I was not expecting this.

" _... What?"_

" _You heard me. We've made it this far already… We're getting on that train."_

" _How?"_

Tyler snickered.

" _The fuck if I know. We're dead if we get caught. We're dead if we go home. Fuck it. Let's just see what happens."_

At that, Tyler got to his paws and knees and started crawling past us to the central duct.

" _Where are you going?"_

" _The loading platform!"_

We had no choice but to follow. The complicated plan was replaced by sheer improvisation. The hot air was probably causing us to not think straight, but that didn't matter.

We were getting out of here no matter what.

* * *

The loading platform was filled with bustling activity. Forklifts drove in and out of the large space, carrying stacks of crates and wooden boxes. Workers loaded up the empty box cars with cargo. Getting to the train wouldn't be easy.

We hid in a small air vent that ran along the back side of the large, open space. Across from us, the parked train sat idly at the platform. The only thing that separated us from our way out was a sea of industrial commerce. The back of the room was pretty inactive, but the area next to the train was crowded by a multitude of mammals. Officers watched employees, carefully observing their every move. Security cameras were dotted around the complex to prevent workers from smuggling cargo. Unlike the rest of the station, the loading platform was well lit by overhead lights. The whole place was meticulously monitored and well organized.

We got as close as possible using the ductwork, but we were still almost fifty yards away from the train. We all stood at the vent cover, watching for any opportunities to make our move.

" _So… How's this gonna work?"_

Honey put her paw against the side of the metal wall, peering out the small slits of the cover. Tyler sat in a similar position, deep in thought.

" _We can't just walk into the train car, there're too many mammals…"_

Tyler tilted his head to the side to look up to the high ceiling above. The cameras sat at a high perch, scanning the area below.

" _Those damn security cameras are going to screw us over…"_

Honey continued to elaborate.

" _Can we disable them? We have access to the entire building."_

" _No, that will take to long. Besides, they'll notice…"_

Tyler looked up at the the other side of the spacious interior. The security cameras were everywhere, and there appeared to be no blind spots.

" _We were supposed to get to the warehouse and hide in one of those crates before they got moved here, but we were too late…"_

I looked ahead. The assemblage of exports were already delivered to the platform. Now, workers ventured back and forth, stacking the shipments into the loaded boxcars.

" _We can still get in one of those, but we need to be quick…"_

Tyler looked up one last time at the cameras. From what I could tell, they were fixed into a locked position. Tyler then glanced to either side. There was no way we were getting out of here without being detected.

" _We need to find a different vent; one with a little more cover."_

Knowing that we had no other option, the rest of us followed the otter's lead. We crawled through the vent that was built into the back wall of the enclosure. Light poured into the areas around the occasional covers, illuminating the vents periodically. We traveled through the darkness towards the filtered light ahead. As we got to the next opening, Tyler was much more pleased with what he saw.

A pile of empty crates stood right in front of the vent, blocking it from the observations of security cameras. Tyler cautiously peered out of the vent before reaching through one of the openings, loosening the bottom right screw.

" _Once we're in, stay low and close to the boxes..."_

He pulled out the first bolt and started working on the second.

" _If anything goes wrong we go back to the vent..."_

Tyler twisted the screw out of the wall, allowing him to bend the bottom half of the cover outward. Laying a finger on his lips, he motioned for us to crawl out.

After shoving our backpacks out, the five of us squeezed through the tight opening and hid behind the back of the pile. The cool air was an immediate relief from the hot, stuffy conditions of the air vent. My arms and legs were exceedingly sore from all the crawling. My neck ached from looking down the confined spaces. My body was broken down, dilapidated from what I put it through tonight. I laid down, sprawling out on the cold concrete floor. Tyler whispered from behind.

" _Come on. Get up."_

I grunted silently as I threw myself up on all fours. Tyler met with the rest of us behind the pile.

" _We need to find a box that's being shipped out tonight…"_

The otter looked around. The boxes surrounding us were all empty. To the right and left, more piles of used packaging were lined up against the wall. There were no workers where we were at, and it seemed that no one was coming back here anytime soon.

" _Stay close to the wall. Come on."_

Tyler led the way as the rest of us followed closely behind. We traveled with the wall to our left, maneuvering through the trash that was strewn about. The back of the building was dimly lit. The overhead lights stopped about midway through the ceiling, leaving the the back half of the room in darkness. Forklifts occasionally passed by, traveling through the isles that separated us from the platform. Tyler occasionally peeked up from behind cover to see what was around us.

We crept for about five minutes until something caught Tyler's eye.

" _Guys, come look at this."_

The otter was peering over a small wooden crate. The four of us met up with him, poking our heads up to see what he was talking about.

" _You see those containers over there?"_

Tyler averted his attention to a stack of long, plywood boxes that were being loaded onto a forklift nearby. The crates were fairly big, and could easily fit the five of us along with the cargo they held. A group of workers stood nearby. One of them, a panther, held a clipboard, counting the containers and checking them off. He looked at the one on top, and after writing something down on paper, he lifted the lid up, counted the contents within, and gently set the top back down.

" _Look up there."_

We glanced up to the ceiling. A tall ladder leaned up against the side wall of the room. On top of it, a tiger was rewiring the cables of a security camera.

It was a blind spot.

" _There aren't any cameras that are watching. It's in a good position; far away from the rest of them. All we have to do is climb in."_

It sounded like a reasonable plan. The stack was near the back end of the room, not too far from where we hid. However, we would have to cross two aisles to get to them. It was a risky plan, but compared to what we've been through tonight, this wasn't all too bad.

" _What do you guys think?"_

There was some reluctance, but together, the four of us silently agreed to Tyler's new plan.

" _I'm gonna find a way to get there, you guys stay here."_

We all sunk down below the box and made our way back into the pile. Tyler climbed through and underneath the boxes, trying to find the best way to cross the aisles undetected. The rest of us stayed back near the wall. I put my backpack down and used it as a pillow. Stretching my legs out, I laid down between the wall and the pile. Honey sat down next to me.

For a while, the two of us were quiet. We did it often; sitting together in silence. It was comforting. Words were not necessary to express how we felt. Dialogue was not needed to explain our thoughts. All we needed was silence, and silence alone. Now, trying to escape from a government facility, we quietly sat together, knowing that this was it; the moment we've all been dreaming of — escape.

" _Guys. I found a way. Follow me."_

The peaceful moment was expectedly cut short. We all got up, closely following behind the otter towards the isle. We got to the edge of the pathway, hiding behind a used cardboard box.

" _If we cut straight through and in between those two stacks, than we can put ourselves right next to our box."_

I looked ahead. Two, tall stacks of unmarked crates stood close to one another across the aisle. Beyond them, across the second aisle, the collection of large containers sat, void of any workers; that was our way out.

" _We go when I say…"_

We waited until the coast was clear. After an officer passed by, we found our window.

" _Come on. Come on!"_

My heart leaped. At once, we were bolting out into the open. I dragged my backpack along, keeping close behind the rest of the pack. Tyler was the first one to make it through, then Honey, then Mallory and Claire, and lastly, me.

We paused in the narrow gap between the two stacks. Adrenaline pumped through my system. We were no longer isolated from the rest of the station. We were getting into the thick of it. Tyler cautiously looked out and around, before turning back toward us. He spoke almost inaudibly.

" _I don't think anybody saw us..."_

We all sighed in temporary relief, quickly preparing to cross the next aisle.

" _Alright. We need to wait for—"_

"Angelo! Help me with these pipes!"

The workers had returned to the containers ahead of us. Tyler hushed us all, motioning for us to get down.

"Bro, come on! I'm in sanitation!"

"I don't care. These boxes weigh half a ton!"

"Ughh. _Fine."_

The sanitation worker set his toolbox down to help. We watched as the workers began to load more containers onto an awaiting forklift. I could barely hear Tyler from in front of me.

" _once… they're… done— we… go."_

The panther was back with the clipboard. He peered into the rest of the boxes one last time before leaving the others to load them. The stack was almost fully depleted when the forklift backed out, turning to deliver the crates to the loading platform ahead. The workers followed it, leaving the rest of the stack behind.

Now was our chance.

Tyler was the first to get up, signaling us to do the same. Together we quickly made our way to the containers. Tyler undid the latch and opened up the closest box. Along with the copper pipes that were being shipped, the five of us could easily fit.

" _Everybody in. Quickly!"_

We were doing it. This was all that need to be done. We were going to make it. A wave of excitement overcame me. Honey, Claire, and Mallory all hopped in. Tyler joined them. I was next. I threw my backpack in and began to climb in…

…

…

…

And that was when I saw him.

I froze, paralyzed with immediate guilt. My body trembled. It was him. My spine went cold, and my feet were glued to the ground. It was him. I couldn't hear Tyler, who was yelling at me to get in. It was him.

It was Lupus.

He stood nearby the train, carrying boxes and setting them down within the box car's interior. He still had his collar on.

We were leaving him behind.

" _Nick! Get the fuck in!"_

I didn't respond. I couldn't respond. My mind was too clouded. We were leaving him behind.

The wolf who didn't speak. The wolf who had to disappear. The wolf who I went out to drink with. The wolf who carried me to his house. The wolf that looked after me…

The wolf who was my friend.

We were leaving him behind.

" _Nick! Come on!"_

I ignored the voices. Suddenly, I found myself digging through my backpack.

" _Somebody's going to see!"_

I unzipped the back pocket and pulled out my orange jumpsuit. I dug deeper and found the fake collar.

" _What the fuck are you doing?"_

I zipped my bag up and grabbed Honey's backpack. I unzipped the front pocket, pulling out a small, metal key.

" _WHAT. ARE. YOU. DOING?"_

I looked back at the four of them, giving them a straightforward answer.

" _Getting Lupus."_

I closed the lid and secured the latch. I immediately got dressed, putting on the fake collar and concealing it with my uniform. I wore my normal clothing underneath. After I got dressed, I bent down and grabbed the sanitation worker's toolbox. Before the employees came back, I walked out into the aisle.

I was one of them.

I nonchalantly made my way to the train. Workers didn't give so much as a passing glance. Officers watched me walk by, all without saying a word. My fur was dirty and matted from working in the basement. The bandage around my head was an injury I had obtained on the job. I was one of them.

I made it to the platform. Workers were getting finished up, slamming many of the boxcar doors shut. To the left, near the caboose, Lupus was finishing up the last of his delivery. I needed to speak with him, but I couldn't be seen doing it. I looked around for a way to conceal myself.

Then, I spotted another orange jumpsuit.

A fellow sanitation worker walked by and climbed down a staircase that led underneath the tracks. I looked closer. There were mammals underneath the train itself, all of them were wearing bright, orange uniforms. I quickly followed, making my way down the staircase and under the train.

The pit spanned the entire length of the train station platform. Sanitation workers and repairmen stood beneath the cars, fixing up and wiping down the train's undercarriage. At this point, I didn't care about blending in. I needed to get to Lupus.

I made my way down to the back end of the freighter. Lupus was working at the second-to-last train car. I walked by a group of workers as they were finishing up with their work. They called out for me, but I ignored them. I needed to get to Lupus.

I reached the loaded box car. Looking up from the pit below, I couldn't see any of the workers. The platform was empty. For a moment, I thought I had lost them. But then, I heard the floorboards above me creak. They were inside the box car. I was just in time.

"... Yah, dude. We were all at his house, and Ben was like– freaking out, and we were just laughing our asses off!"

I recognized the voice. A small wave of anger rose from inside my chest. It was Caesar.

"... And he still thinks that _we_ were the ones that took his uniform! Jeez, that hyena is such an idiot– am I right?"

The snow leopard stepped out of the carriage. He walked backwards, facing the wolf inside. Lupus did not respond.

"... Yah, anyways— I need to take a shit. Be right back— Oh! Can you get my bag out for me? I left it in there. Thanks."

Caesar turned around and walked to through a doorway in the side wall. He was making his way to the same bathroom that we were supposed to meet Lupus at. After a brief moment, the wolf quietly stepped out of the boxcar. He had his paws to his face, anxiously rubbing his temple. It was time.

" _Lupus."_

The wolf snapped into reality. He glanced around, unsure of where he had heard the familiar voice.

" _Down here!"_

His head snapped toward the train. He glanced down, and his eyes locked on to mine. His expression lit up with a myriad of emotion. He was a mix between happy and horrified. He looked around before walking over to see me. I got the key out.

" _Get your collar off and meet me down here! Quickly!"_

I slid the key to him. He picked it up and hurriedly went back into the train car.

I looked back to my left to see that the pit was completely empty. I looked back over to the rest of the platform. Workers had completed almost all of their work and began to file out of the room. One last train car was being filled. The forklift parked in front of one boxcar, and two workers began to carry in the last of the large containers. I counted the wheels, starting from the engine and making my way backwards. The unfilled boxcar was between the seventh and eighth set of wheels.

The others were being placed in the fourth boxcar from the front.

After many more moments, a small backpack was thrown onto the platform above. I heard the door squeak as it slammed shut with Lupus inside. Then, the door on the other side opened slightly, and after closing it behind him, Lupus squeezed down into the pit next to me. His collar was now off, and he was quick to use his newfound freedom of speech.

" _Where did you— when… How did you get here?"_

" _We were late to the meetup spot, used the vents to get here… Long story._

Lupus was extremely happy and full of energy. I knew I had made the right choice by getting him.

" _Where are the others?"_

" _Fourth boxcar from the front. Come on! Let's go—"_

The wheels of the train simultaneously screeched. Suddenly, the boxcar above us began to shift forward.

The train was leaving.

" _Fuck. Fuck! Fuck!"_

We bolted through the tunnel as the train began to slowly move with us. I dug my feet into the concrete floor, sprinting as fast as I could. We were this close. We had gotten this close. The train wasn't leaving me behind.

It just couldn't.

We began to make less and less progress as the train picked up speed. Lupus began to pass me by. He was running faster than me. I dug deeper, pushing my beaten-down body to the limit. I looked dead ahead. I didn't stop.

Lupus shouted out from ahead of me. The screeching of train was deafening.

" _Fourth car!?"_

" _What!?"_

" _They're in the fourth car!?"_

I looked to my right. Seven sets of wheels.

" _Yes!"_

The end of the pit was rapidly approaching. Our escape was just a few floorboards away. There was no way up. There was no way to get in. I began to panic. We couldn't keep running. The pit was ending. The train was getting faster. Time was running out. I grabbed onto one of the boxcar's lower supports. I had an idea.

" _HOLD ON!"_

" _WHAT?"_

" _TO THE FLOOR! HOLD ON!"_

Holding onto one of the steel supports that held the wooden floorboards together, I flipped my body around to face backwards. Lupus followed my lead, mimicking my position. My heels dragged along the concrete below. I kicked myself upwards, flopping my body against the underside of the train. My feet connected with the closest beam, but they failed to stay on.

The pit was about to end.

" _HOLD. THE FUCK. ON!"_

Time flew by me. The world was being dragged out from under me. Adrenaline ran through my veins, bursting them. My legs scrambled wildly against the ground. With one last effort, I kicked myself up, throwing my feet onto the steel beam. I held on for dear life.

…

…

…

The pit ended.

The ground shot up suddenly as the train left the station. A sea of rocks and wooden planks flew by just inches away from my skin. The cold, open air was blackened by the early morning darkness. The railyard passed me by, unknowing of my daring departure.

I looked to my right. Lupus was in an identical position, gluing himself to the boxcar's undercarriage. I looked at him, and he looked at me.

We were both equally as horrified.

Wind rushed by us at increasingly volatile speeds. The ground beneath us became a blur of grey. The train rumbled and shook, as if it was trying to knock us off. My muscles were locked, and my mind was paralyzed.

I looked back to my left. We were out of the station, now heading along the west coast of Happytown. Buildings and homes lit up the night sky. Predators were getting up to begin the day as usual. The sun was preparing to make its journey up. The moon, was beginning to sink back down into the ocean below. The sky was illuminated by streetlamps and neon signs. Isolated trees began to block my view as we began to enter northern Happytown.

I began to scream.

" _TYLER! HONEY! ANYONE!"_

I directed my voice straight into the floorboards. Lupus did the same, yelling as loud as possible.

" _HELP US! PLEASE HELP US!"_

We continued to scream. The possibility of us falling was uncomfortably high. The train continued to shake and sway. Holding on became more difficult by the second.

A loud bang could be heard as something slammed against the floorboard. The wind around us was deafening, but I could still faintly hear the sounds of scuffling from within.

" _NICK?!"_

It was Honey.

" _HONEY!"_

" _NICK! WHAT THE ABSOLUTE FUCK? HOW ARE YOU EVEN— IS LUPUS THERE TOO?"_

Lupus answered the question, yelling loudly into the floor above.

" _YES!"_

" _HOLY SHIT!"_

I heard more muffled scuffling from above. This time, it was Tyler that spoke.

" _NICK. NICK, CAN YOU HEAR ME?"_

" _YEP."_

" _WE'RE GOING TO GET YOU OUT."_

" _SOUNDS DELIGHTFUL!"_

After another period of continued shuffling, the floorboards between me and Lupus began to creak extensively. Honey and Tyler continued to yell from inside.

" _YOU'RE NOT PULLING HARD ENOUGH!"_

" _THEN HELP ME!"_

The wooden floorboard began to splinter. Suddenly, the plank closest to Lupus was ripped upwards out of its position. Light began to pour out of the small hole. Tyler stuck his head out.

"… _HI THERE!"_

" _GET THEM THE FUCK INSIDE!"_

Tyler looked back at me before turning back towards Lupus.

" _WE'RE GONNA GET YOU FIRST SINCE WE ALREADY HAVE THIS PLANK RIPPED OUT."_

The upside down otter looked back at me.

"… _IS THAT ALRIGHT WITH YOU?"_

I nodded slightly. Tyler's head shot back inside, and before long, the boards began to creak again. The two continued to argue.

" _PUSH DOWN AND UP, HONEY!"_

" _THAT'S WHAT I'M DOING!"_

" _NO. YOU'RE PULLING BACK AND—"_

The plank right above Lupus snapped upwards, creating an even bigger hole to crawl through. Lupus stared up, making eye contact with the ones above.

" _IS THAT HOLE BIG ENOUGH?"_

Lupus appeared skeptical. The whole was off-center and only two feet in width.

" _COULD YOU MAYBE MAKE IT BIG—"_

Suddenly, the train car jolted, nearly sending Lupus and I flying. The floor above me made a thud. One of them inside had fallen over. Lupus was beginning to have second thoughts.

" _PULL ME UP. PULL ME UP NOW."_

Three pairs of paws lowered down to help Lupus up. The wolf moved his grasp from the supporting beam to either end of the hole. Using his arms, he managed to wedge his upper half through the hole. His legs and feet soon followed, and with a thud, Lupus threw himself into the boxcar.

Tyler looked back down at me from the newly created hole.

" _DO YOU THINK YOU CAN CLIMB OVER?"_

It was a daunting task. In fact, it was almost suicidal. I was barely holding on as it was, and loosening my grasp was the last thing I wanted to do.

I shook my head in subtle defiance.

" _ALRIGHT. WE'RE GONNA MAKE ANOTHER HOLE. BE READY!"_

Tyler disappeared back into the boxcar. My muscles were beginning to tremble. I arms and legs were wearing down. I put my body through so much; too much. I was getting weak. They needed to hurry.

I looked out to my left. We were exiting Happytown and getting ready to head on up towards the Canal Districts. In the distance, I could see the glimmering skyscrapers of Zootopia. The city I grew up in. The city I've lived in all my life… The city that wants all predators dead.

I took a good look, knowing that this was the last time I would ever see—

_***SNAP** _

I was hit in the chest by a splintered plank of wood. My feet slipped. I immediately tucked my body in as I held on for dear life.

" _NICK!"_

The plank fell off of me, flying underneath the grinding wheels. The boxcar jerked violently, loosening my grip. My feet made contact with the ground, sending a searing wave of pain up my spine. One paw slipped, and I was left being dragged underneath the box car, holding on with only one paw. My chest exploded with pain. My legs were on fire. My arm was contorting. My paw was slipping.

There was yelling. There was screaming. There was absolute panic. My mind was racing. I couldn't distinctly process individual thoughts. I couldn't understand the sounds. I couldn't see the light. I couldn't feel the air. My brain went on lockdown. Only one thought got through to me; My paw was slipping.

But then, I was grabbed by my uniform.

My paw slipped off, and I was flying through the air. I landed with a thud on the boxcar floor.

" _NICK!"_

I struggled to get to my feet. The world was spinning. The walls were shifting. My mind was numb. I was in another state of being.

It was Honey who snapped me back into reality.

" _DON'T YOU EVER DO THAT TO ME AGAIN!"_

She pulled me up to my feet, giving me a warm, tight hug.

She was in tears.

" _DO YOU HEAR ME, NICHOLAS WILDE? NEVER AGAIN!"_

I returned the hug. I buried my face in her shoulder. I cried too. We stood in silence, listening to the sounds of the rumbling train.

* * *

_**End of Book 1** _

**Again, I'm sorry for the idiotically long wait. I really need to keep my story updated here. I'm not a huge fan of this site, but I can get over it. This story deserves to be shared.**

_**-Jacato** _


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